Not This Time
by Silver SnowFlames
Summary: Post-war. Eighth year. Struggling. Healing slowly. "Why don't you speak to me? What's wrong with you? What was that? What is going on?" "I'm dying." ... "I can't do it again… I can't be the coward." "Nah, I'd rather rest peacefully in hell." "This is kinda nice, you know?" "I guess I'm just that selfish." "Not This Time." (slash)(of course it is!) Harry/Draco
1. Prologue

**Hello again! I've been working on this fic for some time. I thought I should post a chapter or two to see if anyone wants to read it at all. So, if you think it's worth continuing tell me plz:)**

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 **Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own these characters.**

 **Title: Not this time**

 **Summary: post-war. Eighth year. Struggling and learning to heal.**

 **"Why don't you speak to me? What's wrong with you? What was that? What is going on?" "I'm dying."…**

 **"I can't do it again… I can't be the coward."**

 **"Nah, I'd rather rest peacefully at hell."**

 **"This is kinda nice, you know?"**

 **"I'm not going to be selfish again."**

 **"Not This Time."**

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Harry stared at his full plate. He still had no appetite. Dark rings around his eyes made it obvious that he hadn't slept well for weeks. The war had ended for months and people were trying to move on with what had remained from their lives. Everyone except him it appeared.

His best friends were a couple now. Hermione was getting through the crucios she had been put under in the Malfoy manor. Ron was trying to get over his brother's loss. They were healing with each other and Harry was happy for them. They would be okay after all.

George was having a harder time comparing to his brother, though. Fred's death had stroke him worst. But even he was recovering. After weeks of mourning he had pulled himself together and now he spent most of his time in the shop and tried to make others happy with the jokes he pulled and sometimes, you could see him smile faintly when someone would start cursing out loud.

In the school Harry could see people were getting better. Everyone tried to help someone. After Harry had asked them, they had stopped being against Slytherins even. The said house had changed a lot too. Slytherins weren't as cruel as before. They were more quiet now and dare Harry say, helpful. Not too much, but more than anyone could imagine from a Slytherin. He was starting to think that maybe they weren't so bad after all. Maybe they had to put on a show because of their families. Everything had changed now.

Everyone was getting better.

Except harry.

His nightmares wouldn't leave him for a night. He had started to cast silencing charms on his dorms so he wouldn't wake anyone up in the night with his screams or whines. Every time he closed his eyes dead faces of people he loved would rush to his mind.

But he couldn't appear weak in front of others. He pretended to be okay. He had to admit to himself he was getting better though. But very slowly. So he kept on wearing a mask and hoping he himself would eventually fall for his 'I'm okay's one day.

Everyone had changed to different degrees after the war. And Malfoy was holding the first place in the ranking. Harry hadn't heard him say a single word since they've returned to school for their eight year. He had become even more pale skinned and from the rings under his eyes which were as dark as Harry's he could say that he wasn't doing so well either.

Harry couldn't help but have a need to blame someone for everything. And Voldemort was dead. So was Lucius Malfoy. He had died two months ago from a disease of sorts, Harry had heard. Not that he was feeling sad or heartbroken about it. But he couldn't help but think about a slytherin student with the same blond hair as Lucius'. What if he was planning something? Revenge maybe?

He almost started following him again. Almost. Then he decided against it. The war was over and he wouldn't keep himself in the past. He would forget about Riddle and Bellatrix and Draco Malfoy.

That's how Harry had found himself in a party in the Ravenclaw's hall. It wasn't anything new. Every week everyone gathered around for a reason, any reason. No one enjoyed being alone. Being stuck in your own dorms would remind you of your dead friends that are not around anymore. So, the party.

Everyone was there, all houses were around actually. Drinking and talking and laughing and dancing. Hermione had dragged Ron in the middle of the hall to dance with him. Neville was standing next to Luna and talking and chatting about Nargles.

Harry had stepped away from the crowd little by little, happy no one had noticed his absence. After half an hour he managed to get out of the common room. Finally. He puffed out some air and decided to go out for a walk when he noticed he's not the only person who has escaped from the party.

Malfoy was standing a few feet from him. Leaning on a wall with closed eyes. His hands hugging his slim body. Harry looked at him and saw how much he has changed. He had grown out the git. The moonlight was sharpening his features. His blond hair had fallen in his eyes and looked silver in the light. He looked exactly like his father but holding almost no arrogance nor pride of the dead man. His father…

Memories of the ministry came back to him. Voldemort… Bellatrix… Sirius… Suddenly everything started playing in front of his eyes in a second. His blood boiled out of nowhere.

The need of blaming someone came back to Harry again and couldn't stop himself this time. Months of not talking and putting up smiles held more pressure than it appeared.

"How can you walk on this ground, knowing how much blood has been shed because of your master?" he said, with more venom he had ever had in his voice. Not sure if he even intended to be this harsh in the first place.

Malfoy opened his eyes and stared at him, shocked from his presence. It took him a few seconds to understand what he had said. Harry waited for him to tell him something in return. He wanted him to. So he could punch him. So he could get this anger out of his body. He couldn't stop now.

But Malfoy remained silent. He didn't even look at him in the face. Instead he looked at the floor. Like he could see the blood on it if he looked hard enough.

"Can't look at me in the face can you? Could you look in Hermione's face when she was being tortured by your Aunt?" Harry couldn't stop himself. He had kept everything to himself for too long. He was so angry he didn't hear Draco's small coughs and shortened breaths.

"How could you look in Dumbledore's face when he was falling off the tower?" More coughs and less breathing. Dumbledore's words were in his head. _We can help you._ He saw Dumbledore falling from the tower again. Again.

"He offered you help! He was going to help you! What did you do? You just stood by and watched as he died." Harry was almost screaming now. He stopped to take a breath. That's when he realized the other boy's rough and sick coughs. He was barely breathing now. His face was getting grey.

"Malfoy?" More coughs and less breathing. He rushed towards him, panicking. _What have I done?_

He reached out for his shoulder to see what's wrong. The blond was coughing so roughly now. He pushed Harry aside and ran to the other side of the corridor, near the windows. He fell down on his knees and scoffed even more. Harry didn't know what to do so he stayed put. Staring with frightened eyes. His heart beating in his mouth.

After seconds, or minutes, or hours, Harry didn't know he just stood there and watched knowing there's nothing he can do, Draco spat something and started breathing again shakily. Harry came to his senses and rushed towards him again. Falling to his knees immediately. There was something on Draco's lips. Was it?

Harry's heart skipped a beat. It was blood. On his lips. Dipping from his chin. Spilled on the ground. If he wasn't so busy panicking, Harry would've laughed at the irony. _People are taking turns to have their blood on these damned floors._

"Malfoy? Are you okay?" his voice shook as he spoke. No response. The blond kept on staring at the ground, where the ugly splash of blood sat with half lidded eyes and trembling lips. He didn't even seem afraid or shocked. _This has happened before?_

They sat there in silence for more minutes. After that Draco stood up with Harry's helping hand grasping his arm. He took out his wand and cast a nonverbal Scourgify and cleaned the blood on the ground. Then, without a word he started walking away.

"Hey, Malfoy, wait!" Harry called after him and took his arm again. "You can't leave like that. I should take you to Madam Pomfrey." Draco shook his head and tried to get his hand out of Harry's grasp. So he held on more tightly.

"Why don't you speak to me? What's wrong with you? What was that? What is going on?" He pleaded the boy in front of him to speak.

Draco looked at him in the eyes. His once silver eyes now a dull grey. They couldn't be his. These were and old man's eyes who has no reason to fight for. He took a breath and opened his mouth. Harry's eyes darted to his lips. The blood on them now dried up and hugging them tightly. Harry couldn't believe the raspy voice that he was hearing were coming from those lips. And when his mind turned the words to a sentence, he couldn't believe them either.

"I'm dying."

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 **This was kind of a prologue. I'll make it alright in the next (first) chapter.**


	2. Chapter 1

**First of all, Thanks a lot for actually reading this! I never imagined anyone would ever want to read this story.**

 **Second, I've typed down almost half of the story (which isn't very long, a few chapters), but I know what I want to do with the rest of it. So rest assured. I will not leave this fic unfinished. (Unless something really unexpected happens)**

 **That's enough for now!**

 **Disclaimer: Do I really have to say this every time? Fine, they're not mine.**

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 **Chapter 1**

 _("You're not doing it?"_

 _"No. No I'm not.")_

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 _I'm dying._

Harry's blood froze, his body forgot how to breath and blink. It seemed like everything stopped living for a second or two. Harry couldn't make a sound. And even if he could, what would he say? What could he say when all he could he think of was ' _What'_? so he said it. In a shaky voice. Barely above a whisper.

"Wha-What?" Malfoy smirked. ' _Ha, that sneaky bastard. I knew it. He's just messing with my head.'_ Harry thought, or rather hoped. But the smirk plastered on his lips weren't the same. His face wasn't the same. Draco Malfoy always stared in you eyes with a smug smirk on his lips.

But now? Now he wasn't even looking at Harry. The half smirk plastered on his bloodied lips seemed more directed at himself than Harry. Smirking at the irony of something that Harry was having problem seeing or understanding. He blinked slowly. Long blond eyelashes distracting Harry's focus on his grey and eyes. Those eyes used to be sharper and more daring, always glinting silver with half-evil ideas and pranks. Not this tired. Never this tired. Seconds passed before he looked up again at him. Staring straight in his eyes.

"Yeah, Potter. You don't have to destroy all villains. Sometimes, they die themselves." He said silently and simply walked away. And Harry didn't stop him. He couldn't move a single muscle. He just watched as the swaying figure of his rival, his enemy left.

 _I'm dying._

So, he was dying. Only if he wasn't making fun of Harry again. What then? Why should he care? One less death eater on these grounds.

Harry couldn't help but grimace at the thought. He shouldn't care a bit. Then why was an invisible hand clenching his throat? Why did he care? He hates me. I hate him. End of story.

But Draco's face kept flashing in front of his eyes. Coughing, looking at the ground, silent, bleeding. He hadn't said a word for months and the first time he had, Harry wished so badly he hadn't.

 _I'm dying._

Hours later, Neville had found him standing there staring blankly at the end of the corridor. He had taken him to their dorms and helped him to bed shifting uncomfortably on his feet and had left, leaving him alone.

Through the night Harry managed to understand Malfoy's words and moved on from a question to another. From _What_ to _Why._

He didn't see him at the great hall the next morning. He himself had no interest in eating but was hoping that he would come. He needed to talk to him. he needed more answers. But he wasn't there. Harry checked everywhere. The library, the infirmary, potions class, green houses, he spent a good hour or two under his invisibility cloak wandering around the dungeons. Even the Room of Requirements was empty.

It was after noon that he remembered he had a bloody map that showed every one. He wanted to strangle himself for his stupidity. He nearly flew to his dorms and opened the map in such hurry it almost got teared in two pieces. He looked every where and didn't spot a dot named Draco Malfoy. He was on the verge of throwing himself out of the window when he saw it.

The Girls Bathroom. Single dot.

That seemed like a place Malfoy would go to be away of everyone else and have some time alone. ' _Or maybe throw up some more blood_ ' Harry thought with a grimace. He grabbed his cloak again and ran outside the common room. He had to stop and take a few deep breaths before getting in the bathroom.

There he was. Sitting on the dirty ground with those expensive clothes and leaning on the wall. Myrtle was floating around him. "… a big place! We can share it! Don't be…" _'What in the burning hells?"_

"Malfoy" he called. His eyes shot open. He stared at him for a few seconds and closed his eyes again.

"What do you want, Potter?" he sounded exhausted. Like he hadn't had an ounce of sleep last night.

"I wanna talk."

"Well, clearly I don't. Why else would I be here?" whatever disease he had, it certainly hadn't changed his way with words. Myrtle wasn't so happy with Harry for being there and ignoring her completely. She floated away and kept up her reputation, though Harry couldn't care any less. He stood there for a few minutes and when he was assured he's not going to get an invitation, he stepped forward and slid down beside him on the ground.

"About last night…" He started. No reaction. But what else could he expect really? "First of all, I'm sorry. I really am. I shouldn't have said those things." The blond snorted at his words. "And I'm not saying apologizing because of what you told me." That got a reaction. He opened his eyes and looked forward, where Myrtle had disappeared some time ago.

"And secondly, what is really happening? I need answers so please give me some." Malfoy breathed heavily. "I don't know what you're seeking Potter. I'm dying. That's all." He said it like it didn't mean anything. Like he was talking about a potions essay that was due tomorrow and he had finished writing it two weeks ago.

"Why? I mean have you talked to someone professional about it? Madam Pomfrey maybe? Or I don't know someone who knows about it?" he asked with a tone of plea. Malfoy rolled his eyes and shook his head, puffing some air out which turned into a single cough.

"There must be a way, Malfoy! Surely there is a healer that can fix you, fix … this." He referred to the cough.

"There is no way, Potter."

"I refuse to believe that. There must be a way, there has to be. How can you give up so easily? So what? You're going to die? Just like that?" he was frustrated and was frustrating the blond.

"Yes, actually. Just like that." His tone was getting irritated and something else Harry couldn't name.

"No! How can you do this? Is it so hard to fight? Come on Mal-" He was cut off by his rival.

"You don't get it Potter." His voice was tired. Tired of fighting with Harry and maybe fighting at all. "I _should_ die. The way father died. The way mother will soon. I _have to_ die." He turned to look at Harry straight in the eyes and continued with a sterner voice than before. "There's nothing you can do about it so please do me a favor and stay away from me." With that he stood up and walked out of the door, leaving Harry alone again.

Harry sat there for hours, frozen. Thinking about Malfoy's words and trying to understand. When he finally got out of the bathroom it was dinner time. Hermione and Ron were worried sick. He said he had decided to take a walk around the Forest and had lost count of time. Neither believed him but both of them decided to let him get away with it, for then at least.

After their last encounter Harry made up his mind and stayed away form Draco. But that didn't stop him from asking Hermione about all diseases that are incurable even in the wizarding world. For the first few days, she would patiently answer him or recommend him books on healing and other stuff. But as time passed she got more and more suspicious.

On the fifteenth day of Harry's abrupt interest and obsession with incurable diseases, she finally couldn't keep it any longer. "Okay, I've had enough. Speak. Now." She demanded.

Harry looked at her with shock. He tried to think of an excuse while he was opening his mouth just before she spoke again. "And don't you dare lie to me, Harry James Potter." She demanded again, sounding a lot like Molly Weasley.

Harry thought about it. He definitely couldn't lie to her. On second thoughts, why would he? If there was anyone who knew how to help, it was Hermione. So he took a deep breath and steeled himself for being told off for not telling her any sooner.

Half an hour later found the two Gryffindors in the common hall. One of them looking more shocked than the other. "And he didn't tell you what was actually wrong with him?" she asked. Trying to stay all business, but her voice was still wavering a bit. "No, just that he had to die." Harry said, still puzzled with his choice of words. Then it hit him. he paled instantly and started to shiver.

"What- what if?" he mumbled. ' _No, No he wouldn't'_ Harry shook his head to get rid of the thought. But it was possible. "What if he what, Harry?" Hermione asked. Harry felt a shiver run through his body.

"What if he's going to kill himself?" he whispered with panic. He looked at her with fear and was relieved to see the disappointed look on his best friend's face. ' _That means she's realized something that I haven't. Thank god.'_

"No, Harry. I highly doubt that being the case. Why would he cough blood and talk about his parents' death then?" she reasoned with him in the same tone one would talk to a toddler. But she had a point and that was enough for Harry. "However, it is obvious he has lost the fight within himself and has already given up, which suggests him being depressed." She said, voicing his thoughts.

"Then what is happening?" he asked as he ran his hands through his already messy hair hopelessly. She looked at him sympathetically before she stood up and held her chin up. "I don't know, yet. But I will figure it out." She promised to him and herself. And marched away with determination Harry hadn't seen in her eyes after the war.

"Where are you going?" he called after her. She didn't even slow down to answer him. "The Library of course." She said matter of factly. Harry smiled at his retreating friend. Her hair swinging to left and right with her each step. She would find a solution to this problem.

But she didn't. After two weeks of immense research she had not yet found a disease sharing all the signs that Malfoy had and being known as incurable at the same time. Harry felt terrible for not knowing what's going on. But Hermione was worse. She seemed… crestfallen. "I don't get it. I have read every single book about diseases in any form. But there's nothing about it. None of those who had the same symptoms as Malfoy were incurable." She said with annoyance. Ron patted her back as he tried to comfort her.

Four days after Harry told Hermione, they decided to tell Ron. At first he had been furious and ignorant. But the second Harry told him that he was dying, he had paled as well and had not once interrupted them or their research.

Knowing about Lucius didn't help much either. No one knew what has been his main problem or his actual cause of death. It had been months since anyone had seen Narcissa Malfoy, let alone know about her health conditions. The Trio were completely and literally helpless. They lacked information and there was no way of gaining them… unless…

Back to Malfoy. He was the only one who knew more.

But once again, as if he knew that Harry was looking for him, Malfoy had vanished into thin air. How he could mess with the raven haired boy without even knowing he was doing so, was beyond Harry's understanding. The map wasn't helpful either. Honestly, what was the point of having a map that shows everyone's place in the school but never the person that was needed to be found?

It was a Saturday afternoon and he could be anywhere. But him being Malfoy, Harry reasoned, he would probably be somewhere no one else would be. Some where like the girls' bathroom, which was empty according to the map, some where like the Room of Requirements, which Harry had checked before. Harry huffed, scowling and trying not to give up.

Where else would he go himself to stay away of everyone else? He closed his eyes and focused on everyone else being too overwhelming, Hermione and Ron asking him repeatedly if he's okay with worried and pitying looks on their faces, some people running to him and asking about the war, people thanking him for being the hero he was… ' _Where would I run?'_

Of-fucking-course. He opened his eyes, knowing where to look. He ran towards the nearest staircase to him, not wasting another second for finding his ex-enemy.

The Forbidden Forest.

The Forest was darker inside, which gave the false impression that it was almost sundown, though, that wasn't anything new. He turned to the deeper side of the woods and walked towards it. Last time he had been there he had died. Such a lovely memory to recall. But now, being there, standing there, it lifted something off his heart he didn't know was there before.

In his dreams everything felt so close and near him. always reminding him of his death. He had never felt the same after that incident, never had felt that rush of adrenaline in his blood, never felt really alive. But actually being in the damn place reminded him of something he had been forgetting so often.

That it was over. Just part of his past.

Harry was so caught up in his memories and feelings he almost didn't recognize a very familiar platinum blond hair behind a tree a few feet away.

He neared him soundlessly. He was sitting on the muddy ground. ' _That's what it took him to let his robes get dirty, then.'_ He thought and regretted it immediately. Every time he thought of Malfoy's situation, he felt like someone had punched him in the stomach, air would be thicker to get in and out of his lungs.

Draco was hugging his knees and resting his head on them. ' _He's always sitting down or leaning on something… Is it because of the illness? Has it made him so weak?'_ An invisible hand grabbed his throat from the thought and squeezed it hard.

"Malfoy." Why was his voice shaking? Draco raised his head to meet him in the eyes. His eyes were red and shinier than ever. Was he crying? Was he going to? "What do you want from me Potter?" he rasped out. Harry wondered if their encounters were the only times he actually spoke. He opened his mouth to talk, maybe he could persuade him to tell him what the illness was. But he beat him to the words.

"There is nothing you can fix about me. Go find someone else to save. Go find someone you can save." He said as he stood up. Harry didn't show that he had noticed how tight he had grabbed the little branch beside him to do so.

"Look, Malfoy. I'm not asking for much. I just need to know what disease it is. Maybe there hasn't been enough research done on it. There might be a cure after all. Just tell me what it is." He asked softly, ignoring his last sentences. The blond shook his head in disappointment.

"And what did you mean by those words? You have to die? How do you know that you mother will die too?" he persisted on getting the answers he seeked.

"You don't get it Potter. You don't understa-" the second he said those words Harry's blood boiled. He couldn't take this shit anymore.

"You keep on saying that every bloody single time I come to you. You tell me that I don't understand and I don't get it. I'm bloody pissed of you telling me I don't get it." His voice was loud enough to echo back to him in the woods. What he couldn't understand was the shaky and sad tone it had. His eyes were burning, so was his throat. All the time he was shouting at the boy he looked at him with a sad expression.

His silver eyes, which were now tearful, glanced away. His lips started trembling again as he swallowed something down, hard. "That's because you don't." at least his voice was shaking as well as Harry's. All the anger inside him melt away when he saw the boy in front him. he seemed so lost and he suddenly wanted nothing but to hug the little boy standing there. He stepped forward and grabbed his hand.

"Then tell me. Let me understand. Please, Draco. Please tell me." He begged him. His mind vaguely warning him that he had just called the blond by his first name. But that was the thing to break his will to stay quiet after all.

He closed his eyes as if the sadness and pain was too much. His head fell down. Harry didn't move a single muscle nor did he make a single sound. He was afraid it would change the other boy's mind.

"It's not a disease that's doing this. It's a curse someone put on me-" He paused and winced at a thought. Harry would do almost do anything to know what it was but still kept silent, giving him time to spill the truth. "-a curse _he_ put on me, and my family."

 _He_

A muscle in Harry's neck jumped painfully before his mind could comprehend Draco's words. Searching Draco's eyes, Harry couldn't find the weakness he thought he had seen there earlier. Just sadness. And defeat. And loneliness.

"Wha-What? How? Why?" he couldn't find a single reason for Riddle to curse three people before his death. He took another breath and looked at the taller boy in front of him. "Start from the beginning." He demanded, as softly as possible in his panicking state.

"When he brought your body back to the school, He hugged me. At first I thought he's trying to be nice or something, not that he was really capable of being so. But after that, the second he died, something burnt on my arm and these words carved out." He said before pulling up his right sleeve. Harry gasped at the view.

There on his pale arm, were words written and scarred. They sickly reminded Harry of his own scars on his hand. 'I must not tell lies'. Though, the ones on Draco's arm were longer and deeper. And as he read the words, a cold shiver down his spine made him realize.

And darker. Very darker.

 _Your parents have it as well_

 _Do it or you'll die_

 _All of you_

 _One by one_

Harry was shaking involuntarily. ' _When did it get so cold?'_ "Do what?" he finally managed to get out of his dry mouth. The next words that reached his ears made it even harder to breath.

"Bring him back."

"How? Is it even possible?" ' _No, please no. Not again. I can't handle him one more time.'_ He was so badly hoping this was all a sick joke. He looked up at the blond, desperately waiting for him to smirk and laugh at him for being so dense and humiliate him for the rest of his life for his stupidity. But the grimace in the other boy's face said otherwise.

"There is a very unknown spell, it requires very special circumstances, a big amount of sacrifice, and ancient dark spells. Unknown to most because there aren't many families left old enough to have it passed down to them." He sighed disappointedly. "and that's what I get for being a pureblood. A curse on my whole family threatening me to bring him back or die miserably."

He was bringing him back then. After all shit he had to go through to kill the mad bastard, he would just return and kill more innocents, just like that.

But… Lucius was dead. Wasn't he? So…?

"Lucius Malfoy is dead." He stated the obvious. "You said you're dying… wait…" it hit him too late. "You're not doing it?" that was confusing. Why wouldn't he?

Draco looked at him sadly. A bitter smile on his lips. "No." He was smiling at Harry's stupidity for not realizing till then. "No, I'm not." He looked at the trees behind Harry, quite proud of something Harry didn't know. "and after some time, the spell won't work, ever again. It's possible to be performed for only a limited amount of time after death."

It confused Harry even more. "But why?" Draco looked at him disappointedly. "That's how the spell works, Potter." He said with a sigh. He sounded oddly like his godfather when Harry couldn't answer a simple potions question. When he wasn't trying to humiliate Harry. He shook his head.

"I meant, why aren't you doing it? He's going to kill you." Harry himself didn't know why was he trying to convince him to bring the mad killer back from dead. Draco's face was as puzzled as his thoughts. "What, Potter? Miss the Dark Lord so much?" he took another breath and steadied himself on his feet. "Anyway. Point is, he's not coming back."

Harry started thinking about every single encounter he had had with the blond. He had kept a distance from almost everyone. Even his close friends. He had been silent and not said a word in reply to all the remarks that had been send his way. Harry understood now.

He was staying alive for his death.

Harry was too deep in thought that he almost didn't catch his ex-rival's next words. "Do something for me Potter will you? Don't tell anyone about this, please." Harry was sure he had imagined the last word. He looked at him with wonder.

Harry looked at the boy in front of him. Anyone who saw him could see his straight back and broad shoulders and held up chin. Maybe if it was a few months ago, Harry would too. But now, after seeing him so vulnerable and exposed not more than few minutes ago, he didn't fall for the pretence. Now Harry could see more in the blond than he did before. His tensed jaw, his too stiff posture. They were obvious now that he had noticed them. How hadn't he seen them before? All the signs screamed one thing.

Draco Malfoy didn't want to die.

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 **PLEASE tell me what you think.**


	3. Chapter 2

**Hello again!**

 **Thank you again for reading, reviewing and following!**

 **I'm still uploading the previously parts. And typing down the story has become harder than I expected! I have way too many ideas and stories and stuff in mind to be able to focus on only one fic at a time.**

 **Disclaimer: I will get depressed one of these days, forcing myself to repeat HP universe not being mine.**

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 **Chapter 2**

 _"There's one other group though, people as afraid as me."_

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Later that day he found his best friends, actually they found him sitting in the common room staring at the fireplace and the flames in it. He didn't say a word until everyone had left for their dorms to sleep. Then he had told them everything, save for him trying to make Draco do _it_ and save his and his mother's life. To say they were shocked would be a great understatement.

"So, what will happen now? He's going to die?" Ron finally broke the silence. Once again, Harry felt that invisible hand on his throat. He swallowed the sudden need of puking and the hand for the tenth time in the passed hour and opened his mouth but the words didn't make their way out. He couldn't think of it let alone say it. "I don't know." _I don't want him to die_ was strictly censored, but he had a feeling everyone had heard it nonetheless.

Hermione had stayed oddly quiet since he had started speaking and now she was staring at the ground beneath their feet. Her face was rather pale and it seemed like she was shaking. "Uh, Ron!" Harry called his best mate with worry. He became alert in less than a second and put his arm around her shoulder gently, looking at her face with great concern.

That was enough to snap her out of whatever she was thinking about. In less than a second, the tremble was replaced with a reassuring smile directed towards her lover. Then she turned to Harry with a serious look on her face. "We can't let this happen. We have to find a way to save him." she looked at both of them as she spoke. "It doesn't matter that he's Malfoy or that he has been a git in the past seven years. He's still a human being and doesn't deserve to die like this."

Ron nodded his agreement. It was amazing to see the redhead was willing to save the one person he had hated the most, after Voldemort of course, for years. One would assume he was simply agreeing to all of it because he didn't want to disagree with his girlfriend. But in fact he wasn't disagreeing with her because he agreed with the plan and shared the same belief as her.

Harry was fighting his sudden urge to hug Hermione and thanking her for giving him a logical excuse for his stupid thoughts. Ever since he had heard Malfoy say those damn words he hadn't stopped looking for a way to help him, save him, whatever. And not once had had a reason for fighting so hard. So he nodded madly. "What are we supposed to do then?" he couldn't wait another second.

Hermione cleared her throat and sat up a little straighter. Harry couldn't help but think ' _Now, that's the Hermione I knew, not the helpless girl who shies away from almost everything. Not the person she has become after the war.'_ It might've been a few seconds only of her being herself again, but it was enough for Harry to have a hard time fighting a smile.

"First of all, we need to learn everything about this spell and the curse that Voldemort has put on Malfoy and his parents. It's foolish to act without knowing enough." She said as the great mind of hers started plotting and working. She glanced at Harry's exhausted figure and her eyes flashed in concern. "But even before that, we need to rest. Tomorrow's an important day as you remember." The clueless expression on the boys faces said otherwise. She sighed in frustration.

"We have two extra classes, Transfiguration and Arithmancy. We need all the energy we can get." She scowled at the whining grown ups in front of her. "Now, go to your beds. I won't help you in your studies because you've slept through the classes."

Ron kissed her goodnight and headed upstairs immediately. One of the most surprising changes of their final year at school had been the redhead's sudden interest in studying. Not as much as Hermione, though, who can enjoy studying that much honestly? But it had been a massive change for Ron. It appeared she had changed him that much.

Harry waited longer after Ron move up to their room. He looked at his smart and lovely friend. "Harry? Is everything alright? You wanted to tell me anything?" she asked him kindly. He shook his head, a faint smile on his lips. "No, nothing." He gave her a hug and headed upstairs after telling her good night. Then he turned around and called her name.

"Yes?" she turned to face him. After months, this was the first time Harry had seen her so calm and collected.

"Just wanted to say, It's good to have you back." He gave her another smile and faced his room, leaving an astonished bushy haired girl standing in the common room.

"You told them." Draco stated in an even tone the next day at Herbology. Harry looked at him with surprise. That was the first time he had started the conversation. "How did you-" he tried to ask before being cut off.

"I'm not daft, Potter. At the Great hall Weasley almost made a hole in my head from staring too much. And Granger has been stealing glances at me all day." He hadn't even looked up from the bag of soil in front of him for talking. He paused for second then repeated his first statement. "You told them."

Harry looked down with embarrassment and started poking the soil with his prong. He had asked him one thing, not to tell anyone and he hadn't keep it for a few hours. "I – I'm sorry. I couldn't keep it from them." he tried to stammer an apology.

He didn't say anything for minutes, deciding whether forgive the raven haired boy standing beside him or not. After minutes that seemed like hours to Harry, he simply shrugged and didn't say a word. Harry had problem understanding what had just happened.

"S - so?" he hated sounding so insecure but he was. "Alright." Was his simple reply. "Alright? Did you actually _forgive me_?" where was Draco Malfoy and who was this forgiving stranger?

He finally looked up from the bloody soil bag and eyed him. "I think I just did." Harry's next words, if there were any, died in his wide open mouth as the class got dismissed and everyone, including Draco, started packing and headed out of the greenhouse.

"Potter, Granger, Weasley." He looked up from his textbook to greet the Trio standing in front of the desk he was studying on, articulating each of their last names. The library was almost empty. "Can I help you?" Ron was already shocked from not being called _Weasel_ and being asked whether he could be helped or not, by _Malfoy_!

"Malfoy." Hermione simply said as she sat in front of him gesturing for the other two to do the same. "As you already know, Harry has told us about your… situation." Draco raised an eyebrow at her choice of word, but remained silent, allowing her to continue. "We would like to know more about the curse that has been put on you and your family and the spell that you've mentioned before to Harry."

Draco put his elbows on the table and entwined his fingers. Harry's eyes shifted to them and suddenly wondered how would it feel to have his own fingers entwined with those slender, pale ones. With a good amount of inner struggling he looked up again at the blond boy's face. That didn't do any good either. He had this sudden urge to touch his high cheekbones and his sharp, very sharp, jawline. Thankfully Draco spoke up and saved Harry from his mental disorder.

"Why do you want to know about killing and resurrection spells and curses? They're strictly sorted under the dark magic category." That was a question she evidently had the answer to. "Because, we want to help you." Hermione stated easily. "Besides, there is nothing wrong with learning. Knowledge is knowledge. No matter the major." Harry supposed the words were Hermione's mottos for life. Not many people were in the library and none of them could actually believe what they saw. Old school enemies having a civil conversation.

Draco sighed at her response. Then turned his attention to Harry, who had been staring at him since the most talented students in the Hogwarts had started talking to each other. He suddenly panicked ' _Has he noticed?_ ' and fought the blush that had come out of nowhere. "That," he referred to the conversation "is why I asked you not to tell anyone."

Ron saw fit to interfere. "Is it so bad we want to help you, Malfoy?" he sounded pretty affronted but still kept his voice down and his tone civil. "No, Weasley. It's not _bad_. I should be grateful that you're doing this actually. But there's nothing to help with." Harry's face fell at his words.

"Why do you say this, Malfoy? Have you stopped fighting that easily?" Hermione asked with a disapproving frown.

"There's no point fighting for the impossible." And Harry heard what his friends didn't. the waver in his voice as he spoke.

"Defeating Voldemort was impossible, too." Harry spoke up. And looked at him straight in the eyes. Something flashed in those silver eyes. Harry couldn't decipher what, though. "But hundreds fought for it. And they succeeded." As if he could no longer look him in the eyes, Draco looked down at his textbook and coughed. Harry tensed up and became alert. After a few muffled coughs his breathing turned back to normal. He looked up again and watched each one of them carefully. What he saw, no one knew but him. But after that he shifted his gaze to Hermione.

"What do you want to know?"

They stayed at the library till nightfall. Discussing and getting information. Harry was amazed at the amount of ancient spells that no one knew of but the very old, dark and royal pureblood families. Hermione was about to have a heart attack from being so excited for learning new stuff. Ron looked the same as Harry, probably wondering why didn't his family knew anything as such. But then again, the Weasley family had never been a dark one.

After hours of exchanging information, there was still to learn so they decided to meet the next day as well. Draco promised to ask her mother to send him some of the books they had on relating sorts of magic. Before they separated paths to go to their rooms, Draco said something to Hermione that left her beaming till night.

"Granger, you're probably the first muggleborn and one of the few witches and wizards of other families who has heard and learnt these spells and curses and stuff. And definitely one of the very fewer that would understand them."

Harry was the first to head to the library the next day. Ron and Hermione had a meeting with the Head Mistress as the Head boy and Head girl. And Harry was too excited to meet Draco he couldn't wait any longer. He was still trying to figure out his out of line thoughts and his sudden eagerness to spend time with the blond Slytherin.

His excitement doubled the second he saw a tall figure outside the library with green and silver robes. A grin started to spread across his face as he neared the slim boy. But as he saw the said boy stop in his place and start coughing hard, the grin vanished in a second and he rushed forward. As he got closer he saw him bend down more and more as the coughing intensified.

Just as he was going to drop to his knees, just like the other night except it was in the light of the day and more visible to him, he reached him and grabbed him by his arm and shoulder, but realized he can't stand on his feet so he slowly helped him lower to the ground. To Harry's dread he spat blood again, but he tried to keep his emotions in check for the sake of the boy in front of him. He rubbed slow circles on his back as he struggled for air and fought the urge to hug him till he's okay.

Draco was on his knees and was pushing his hands hard against the floor to stop from collapsing. Harry was sitting uncomfortably on his knees with his ankles in a painful position but he couldn't care less. He had a hand on the pale boy's shoulder holding him up and kept rubbing his back steadily with the other.

They stayed there for more minutes as Draco could breathe easier. Harry mumbled a cleaning spell at the spilled blood on the floor and waited patiently as Draco took a cloth from his robes and cleaned his lips. "Are you better now?" he whispered to him softly. Draco nodded and rasped out a small thank you. Hearing his voice made Harry wince.

He stayed still until the other boy was ready and made a move to stand up. When he did, despite his resistance Harry took him outside to get some fresh air. It was a miracle that they didn't come across anyone on their way. A few minutes later found them sitting on a conjured up bench out of everyone's sight.

They sat there in silence as Draco's breathing got better and could be recognized as normal. Harry's mind kept on replaying the scene he had just witnessed. He shivered as he thought of Draco's gray and blue face from lack of oxygen. "How often does this happen?" he asked while trying his best not to let his voice waver.

"I do usually get problems with breathing. But this bad? Not so often, yet." Harry's heart sank at the last word the blond had added. It was going to get worse than this? Harry had never hated Voldemort this much. In the last minutes of the war he even felt pity towards him. But seeing Draco like this, waiting for his death? His blood boiled and felt a need to kill the madman again, this time slower and more painfully.

He felt shocked by his own thoughts. He had never felt so violent. Not even when he had watched his godfather fall into the veil. What had changed now? What was making Harry want to hurt someone so badly and kill them? He glanced at the boy beside him, who was at the moment peacefully surrounded with calmness as he took long breaths. How he managed to maintain his strong posture after _that_ was beyond Harry's understanding. But out of a sudden, he felt the urge to touch the said boy. Feel his skin under his touch, just to know he is really okay, and to learn how smooth it really is.

Harry ducked his head with embarrassment and a blush, afraid the slytherin had heard his thoughts. He tried to distract himself from thinking anymore by talking. "So, what do you think of it?" Harry had never felt such urge to strangle himself for being such an idiot. ' _Oh, I don't know Potter. How should I feel about dying slowly at the hands of a dead Dark wizard?'_

Draco raised his eyebrows while still looking around. "Honestly?" he wet his lips with the tip of his tongue and Harry was glad Draco wasn't looking at him while his eyes darted to the little pink tongue, which disappeared way to soon for Harry's liking and the pink lips which had been covered with blood minutes ago. Thankfully the lips moved to perform words and Harry forced his eyes to look at the grey ones only seconds before they turned to him.

"I think that Transfiguration isn't really your strongest suit." The grey globes flashed to be little bit more silver and the previously mentioned lips welcomed a playful smirk. "This bench really sucks!" Harry got affronted, "I was nervous, Malfoy! I had just witnessed you nearly die!"

The second the words came out of his mouth he winced. ' _I shouldn't have said that._ ' He prepared himself for a remark or a glare. But he received a small chuckle. And a smile. Who would've thought, Draco Malfoy can smile after all.

Silence fell between the two again. This time it got broken by Draco. "It's good you're alive, you know." It was barely above a whisper but was heard anyway. Harry smiled sadly. "Had I been dead, your father was alive and you weren't going through this." He whispered. He wasn't blaming himself for being alive but Draco had every right to do that.

"You're right, I wouldn't. I would be going through much worse than this." He stared at his hands which were lying on his knees. When Harry looked at him with a confused look he continued with a sigh.

"It's not so easy, being a death eater. Not when you still have a conscious. Being a happy death eater requires you to be willing to do whatever he tells you to. Kill a child, torture a muggle girl-" Draco lost his voice for a second and Harry watched as his jaw tensed by the haunting memories that were kept in front of his eyes.

"There are different types of people who follow these mad wizards. Either as power hungry as Wormtail, or as crazy as Aunti- Bellatrix Lestrange. Or, as weak as my father." Harry 's jaw dropped at that. "All my childhood I worshipped my father for the strength he never had. And when he came back, my fantasy broke down in front of my eyes. Watching my father bow to him was… I couldn't believe him. the man who had taught me to never cry because that's a sign of weakness would gladly lick that disgusting man's feet if he told him to." He took a breath and continued.

"There's one other group though, people as afraid as me." He bowed his head in shame and fell silent. Harry didn't know what to say to make him feel better. He had, after all, been there at the tower that night. He had seen the agony on Draco's face.

When minutes passed and Draco didn't talk again he glanced at him again. The poor boy seemed exhausted from both the coughing fit and the confession. He put his hand on a pale, boney wrist. "Come on, you should get some rest. You look like death itself." He said gently. Draco nodded silently and stood up.

Harry companied him to the dungeons. "Apologize to Granger and Weasley for me not coming to our meeting. Oh and thanks again for today. Good night, Potter." He gave him a little nod and headed away. Harry watched him leave as he fought the great need of hugging the blond. Just when the door closed behind him, he came back to his senses and made his way up to the Gryffindor's common room. He couldn't help but murmur softly as he did so.

"Good night."

The next day came as the trio sat in the library waiting for a blond boy to walk in. To say that Harry was impatient would be a great understatement. He kept on glancing at the entrance door and drumming his fingers on the wooden table, not paying any attention to the open book in front of him. Every time the door opened he would jump and every time it wasn't Draco he would disappointedly pout and drop his head.

Finally, after giving his two best friends an hour of hell, Draco arrived, carrying a few large, thick books on his arms. Harry nearly jumped from his seat when he saw the boy approaching them. He put the books on the table, obviously relieved for not holding them any more, in front of Hermione and huffed. "These are some of the books that we had on these sorts of curses." He addressed Hermione and pointed to another book. "This one had more information about resurrection. Oh, and hello." He stated, this time to all three of them.

Harry only murmured a hi while Ron put himself together from the shock he still couldn't let go of. Hermione just kept on staring at the books with slightly wide eyes. Draco watched her and felt uncertain. "Look Granger, if you've changed your mind about this whole thing it's oka-"

"This is amazing!" Hermione stated happily and amazed. She picked one of the books and started skimming the titles and the pages. The look on her face was so bright Harry almost had to look away. Ron looked at his girlfriend with a longing face and smiled at her happiness. Draco, too, was watching the girl in front of her, who wasn't paying attention to anything but the book, with amazement.

"Ron, this is amazing. According to the book there are ways to revive…" Ron had moved closer to her immediately and now was paying attention to her every word. Draco sat at the other end of the table right beside Harry. "So, Weasley actually likes learning now? Who would've thought this day would come?" he said the words with sarcasm but in a light tone, almost like he was friendly joking.

Harry chuckled silently at the comment. "Yeah, I couldn't believe it a first but looks like she has changed him that much." Draco nodded and watched the couple who were sitting even closer now for another second before he shifted his focus on the advanced potions book he had brought with him as well. Harry took that as a sign and tried to study the book he had with him, which in fact he had no idea what it was about.

But he found focusing on History of Magic harder than usual when sitting next to a specific blond. He re-read the same page in hopes of understanding the context but his eyes kept on looking at the pale fingers on his right, taking notes on a parchment and turning pages every once in a while. Harry's hands ached from wanting to touch the moving ones.

Harry huffed, frustrated from the idiotic thoughts that came out of nowhere. He ran a hand in his hair and eyed the boring text with despair. "What's it?" Harry turned to the joyful sound and his heart skipped a beat by the scene that came to his eyes.

Draco had turned completely and was facing him with his head lying on his hand. His eyes were shining with amusement and there was a teasing smile playing on his lips. the sun was shining through the windows on his blond hair, making each and every strand shine like gold, coming in a rich contrast with the silver of his eyes. Harry couldn't bring himself to utter a single sound.

"History of Magic isn't good enough for your attention and energy?" he teased again. Harry, finally, came to his senses and found his voice. Remembering the reason of his problems, which were both the book and the blond, he willed himself not to blush as he took the blame on the poor book and tried not to look at the boy beside him.

"I don't understand a single word. I think I've been reading this page for ever. It's the worst lesson ever. Wait, no, I just forgot potions." Draco's smiled deepened at his last sentence. Not that Harry was looking! Of course not!

"Have you written the essay that's due tomorrow?"

"Which one? Oh, Oh, NO!" he let his head fall on the table as he faked a sob. "The whole universe is against me." He whined miserably. Draco chuckled at the sight before his eyes and shook his head. "Stop fretting. I can help you with the essay." He offered.

Harry jumped up from his seat. "Really?" his eyes were shining with hope. A glare from the other boy was all it took him to understand that half of the people from around were staring at him. He sat down quietly before looking around again. "Really?" this time, he whispered, rather sheepishly.

Harry had never dreamt of understanding anything related to potions so completely. He was rather amazed that had found the subject quite amusing after Draco had explained him the usage of bloomslang skin in polyjuice and other potions. He was oddly patient with all of Harry's elementary and stupid questions. After an hour of lecturing him on the subject Draco had ordered him to get a start at the essay. Harry ended up writing an essay which was five inches longer than needed.

He spent the whole evening with Draco in the library. He didn't even budge when Hermione and Ron told him they were going out to take a walk and said goodbye to Draco. Hermione promised to read the books Draco had given him as Ron dragged her out to have some of his girlfriend for himself alone.

Ever since the war had ended, Harry had never enjoyed spending time with anyone. True, he hated being alone too. But being around people made him uncomfortable. Even if they were only his friends. But now, he was actually enjoying spending time with the slytherin. It hit him when he found himself looking for excuses to keep the blond around for even a few minutes longer.

But time flew faster than Harry's liking and it was night before he had had enough of Draco. They stood up and packed their stuff in silence, leaving the empty library. As soon as they entered the corridors, Harry felt like waking up from a fantasy and being pushed in to reality. Reality, where he was Potter and Draco was Malfoy, where he was the bloody saviour and the other an ex-death eater, where Draco was sick and could start coughing any second.

He stepped beside Draco at the end of the corridor, where their paths divided. Felt like their whole life to him. Being on the same path, like the other one, until facts made them move away, made them stay away. For the first time in his entire life, Harry wished he hadn't argued with the sorting hat seven years ago so much over choosing houses.

"So, that's goodnight I guess." Harry whispered, trying not to sound as down as he felt. "Thanks for today, I mean, the essay and the explanation." He smiled half-heartedly and was grateful for the one he received. "Just, try not to forget all of it till tomorrow." Draco teased.

"I won't." he promised.

"Okay then, till tomorrow." He said and turned towards the stairs. But before he had taken more than a few steps, he stopped. "Today was fun. Thanks, Harry." And continued his way.

That night Harry stayed awake, staring at the ceiling for hours, reviewing the sight of Draco explaining to him, talking to him, looking at him, smiling at him. How could he forget any of that day's happenings? A few hours before the sunrise, Harry literally passed out from exhaust, thinking of a blond boy who called him 'Harry' now.

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	4. Chapter 3

Hello **everyone!**

 **I'm terribly sorry for the short chapter. Since I'm typing them from this point (and I'm not fast at typing nor thinking) this will probably last.**

 **Thanks for following everyone! I try my best not to disappoint you guys!**

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 **Chapter 3**

 _"You know, this has always been our motto. Family comes first."_

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A month had passed without any of them acknowledging it completely. They had fell into a Rhythm which Harry very much had grown fond of. Waking up, taking lessons, going to the library, and studying, all four of them sitting at the same table. Most of the time Hermione and Ron would leave some hours earlier than the other two, which would leave them spending more time together, much to Harry's liking.

Draco was an interesting person when he wasn't trying to annoy you or be your enemy. He was almost as knowledgeable as Hermione when it came to his studies and other stuff. But the amount of his knowledge on old and ancient magic was almost unbelievable. Hermione kept on asking him about everything and he would, patiently to Ron and Harry's surprise, answer and let her feed on his learnings. He would add some extra information even when Hermione hadn't asked for it, which made the girl's face shine with amazement as she took notes of them.

His health condition however, had gotten worse. He had had several coughing fits which their frequency kept on increasing much to Harry's worry. Hermione had finished learning the old magic, but had yet to find any cure.

The first time Draco had gone through a coughing fit in front of the couple, Harry was there to help him regain his breathing. At the end, however, Harry couldn't decide whether Draco was paler or his red headed best friend. Draco had laughed so hard at his afraid and shaking state that he had to sit down and take a rest again.

Harry's interest in the blond had increased too. He loved spending time with him now that he wasn't sneering at him every second. He sat restless at the classes wishing the time to pass sooner, and kept on turning and tossing in bed at nights, unable to get him out of his mind. He even had started to take a liking to potions, both because he could pair up with Draco and because he would always help him with his problems and questions.

 **...**

"So?" Harry asked Hermione, encouraging her to get to the point. They were having breakfast and she had started lecturing him about all the research she had done and was giving him random information about the ancient methods of magic. Harry did love her a lot, both for being his friend and being the genius that she was, but sometimes she forgot that she's the only person understanding what she was talking about.

She frowned slightly at being interrupted, but seeing his friend's frantic state, her features softened in a heartbeat. "I think there might be a way to stop the curse." She whispered with a smile. "It has to be. This is my last idea, literally." She had added.

Harry could've jumped up from his seat and screamed as he ran around the whole castle right then and there. He turned to look at the slytherin table, searching for a familiar blond, with a stupid grin on his lips. Draco was sitting silently at the table, listening to Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini bicker and argue with amusement.

There was a rustle and within seconds, a bunch of owls flew over their heads, dropping letters for their owners. Harry had no letters, not that he was expecting any. But watched as Draco opened an envelope and read through a letter, his face turning more and more stony with every line he read. He folded the letter and put it back in the envelope and stood from his seat and got out of the Great Hall within seconds.

He didn't show up in potions, which left Harry without a partner. He managed to turn his supposed to be bright orange potion into a sickly shade of greenish brown, which he didn't mind at all. He was too busy worrying about the missing blond to actually care about a stupid potion.

He didn't come to the library after the classes either. Harry checked everywhere in the castle. Hermione suggested him to ask the Headmistress, which in fact was a good idea. Fortunately, he ran into Professor McGonagall down a corridor on his way to her office. He would've knocked them both down to the ground had she not stepped aside in time.

"Professor!" he panted. She looked shocked, she hadn't seen Harry so energetic and anxious in months.

"Can I help you, Mr. Potter?" she asked him while trying to keep her strict composure.

"Yes, I am looking for Draco Malfoy. I haven't seen him since breakfast when he rushed out and he hasn't shown up in classes and he's not in the library now. I know you might say he's somewhere else but he's not I've looked everywhere and-"

"Potter!" she almost shouted to make him stop blabbering. He shut up immediately, turning red in seconds. She looked at him kindly and spoke in a gentler voice. "Mr. Malfoy isn't in school by this time." She rose her hand to stop him form cutting her off. "He took the floo from my office and is at his home now." She stated, not giving away any unnecessary information.

Harry thanked her before leaving for the dungeons, or at least he thought he did. He spent hours walking in front of the Slytherin's common room. He didn't care that everyone gave him strange and curious looks as they passed. He was too drowned in worry and thought to even notice them.

 **...**

About an hour before the curfew, Harry, who was now sitting in a corner leaning on a wall, heard light and dragged footsteps in the empty corridor. It was him. Paler than ever, slightly swaying on his feet, but it was him. He sprung from where he was sitting and ran to him and before he knew what he was doing, he was hugging him so tightly even hearing a bone crack wouldn't surprise him much. He was so focused on his return that didn't much mind the unmoving slim hands of the other.

After a few seconds staying in the same position, he realised what he had done and suddenly pulled away. "I'm so sorry, Draco. I don't know what was I thinking. It's just you have vanished into thin air since morning and I was worried sick. McGonagall told me you've gone home and I got even more worried. I thought… Draco?"

When he stopped talking, Harry noticed how Draco hadn't spoke a word and how shallow his breaths were. His hair was disheveled, his eyes were red and unfocused, he looked so pale it seemed he would faint any second. Harry gently grabbed his arms. "Draco? Are you alright?" he asked quietly, as if afraid to frighten the poor boy.

All he did was look down and slightly shake his head. His swaying increased, so Harry let himself step close to him again and slightly grab his arms to steady him. he fought the urge to hug him again, since it had felt better that he had imagined. Holding the blond close to him had made him feel something he couldn't describe. He watched the boy closely, trying to understand what was wrong.

"Draco?" he asked in the most comforting tone possible. He could barely see the pale pink lips trembling as he murmured something he couldn't hear. Only the last word, which sent shivers down his spine. 'Dead'.

"Who, Draco?" he asked dreadfully, though he had a very good idea.

"M-my moth-m-" he couldn't finish the word. Harry waited for him patiently as he took a shuddering breath and paused for seconds. He lifted his head, letting Harry to see his tear-shed eyes and torn expression in the moonlight. "Mom's dead." He whispered before his legs gave out under his body's weight and all the pressure he was under momentarily.

Fortunately, Harry was ready for it and just had to tighten his hold on him. Bringing the shivering figure closer to his body, pressing his body to his own more than needed to keep him standing. He could feel Draco's heart beating against his own, his neck ached for not being able to turn enough for Harry's face to be buried in his neck. Draco found his footing in less than a few seconds. It took the exact amount of time for Harry to realize something.

He was falling for the boy he had just stopped from falling. Fast.

He slowly took him to a corner and sat him down, beside himself. Draco leaned against the wall as he stared at the opposite wall. Harry had no idea what he had to do at the moment. He had never been good at comforting others. However, right now he was seriously considering a hug. And maybe a kiss. Harry fought his sudden need of banging his head at the wall behind him, repeatedly. Draco saved him from his inner battle as he started talking.

"My father went crazy when he knew. He started shouting at me for not telling him sooner and told me to get to it right away. To bring his _Lord_ back and save our family. You know, this has always been our motto. Family comes first." He grew silent as a small smile played on his chapped lips. Harry's heart clenched at the thought of Lucius Malfoy begging his son to save him. Coming to think of it, Harry could not have done what Draco was doing. He couldn't stand by and watch his loved ones perish in front of his eyes.

"Mother was the one who stopped him. She stood up to him and told him I was not going to bring the dark lord back." The blond boy seemed drowned in memories. "When he was dying, he was sad, disappointed and angry at me." He stated sadly.

"But she-" His voice wavered as he talked about his newly deceased mother. "She was so calm and contained. She wasn't trying to stay alive anymore." Harry couldn't control the tears forming in his eyes. He silently reached out for Draco's hand and gripped it hard, as if trying to protect him like a little child. The lost boy, too, gripped the hand offered to him in the darkness he was floating in, trying not to drown.

They sat there for hours, finding comfort in sound of silence and the colorless dark surrounding them.

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 **Thanks for reading! Please write and review!**


	5. Chapter 4

**Hello again!**

 **Thank you all for all the reviews!**

 **This is the last typed down chapter, and the next one is literally killing me! I mean, I spent two hours on it only to write 500 words! But I'm trying hard to finish it till next week.**

 **I hope you'll enjoy this one :)**

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 **Chapter 4**

 _"I guess I'm just that selfish."_

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The next day and the ones that followed it went in the same manner. Library, studying and such. But things changed all the same. Little things here and there. No one knew for sure how, but the four eighth years would find themselves in the kitchen at midnights, getting cookies and hot chocolates from the house elves. Or by the lake, walking, talking and laughing at the silliness of the new DADA professor's lessons. Or at Hogsmeade, sitting around a table at the three broomsticks, enjoying the taste of butterbeer.

No one knew what changed exactly. But they actually became friends. They found themselves calling each others' first names. They started exchanging letters at some classes, even Hermione would participate some times when the classes became too boring.

Draco and Hermione bonded soon, talking and discussing about studies, spells and other stuff Harry and Ron couldn't understand. Finding someone close to their level of knowledge had left them talking fast and complicated.

Draco's sudden interest in muggle world was a surprise to all of them. But Harry and Hermione had taken turns in explaining stuff to him. His biggest problem was with technology itself. But he put enough energy to it and actually understood it, of sorts.

Ron had gone crazy when he had lost a game of chess with Draco, which lasted for nearly two hours. But not the crazy Harry had expected. He was in shock for half a day and after that he wouldn't stop talking to the boy about chess strategies. They almost played twice a week or more, feeling the close competition. To say that Hermione and Harry were surprised by the turn of events would be a great understatement.

Draco had something to talk about with Hermione and Ron, but Harry was the one who he could share his silence with. They would sit hours on a bench outside in a corner and watch the passing people. They shared many nights alone in the kitchens, sipping some hot milk or tea. To be honest, Harry didn't like a thing about tea, but he had started to take a liking towards it since it could clear Draco's throat and soften his raspy voice after a coughing fit. Harry had grown used to paying attention to Draco's breathing. He would slow down when walking together if he felt he was tiring the boy. Almost all staircases had had them sitting on them when Draco's breath would hitch in the middle of climbing the stairs.

But silence was not all they had. They talked about almost everything. Discussing Quidditch when Hermione and Ron would go _lovey dovey_ as Draco had once said. Talking about the war and their sides and people surrounding them. Telling childhood memories when Harry got bored of studying. Or simply their different interests and favorites.

Draco was different from Malfoy. And Harry couldn't tell if he had changed this much or if he had always been this easy to talk. He still made fun of Harry's… well everything. From his glasses to his choice of clothes to his intelligence. But they didn't sting like they once did.

This Draco loved chocolate chips and would ungracefully lick off the smudge on his lips, which was very distracting in Harry's eyes. This Draco wasn't mean. He smirked playfully and made silent remarks that made Harry fight his giggles. He shook his head disappointedly every time Harry tripped over something. Took Harry some time to realise he hadn't had nightmares for quite some time. This Draco had done the one thing no one had been able to.

This Draco was healing Harry.

Or, maybe all of them.

...

"Merlin, Harry. Can you stop moving for a second?" Draco said frustrated to the marching Harry. Harry was nervous, obviously. Hermione had told him at morning to bring Draco outside at 5 so they could talk about her idea, which she had looked into for days. So he had. Ron had just joined them and was doing a remarkable job sitting still and keeping quiet.

"What time is it again?" he said nervously. He cast a tempus under Draco's glare. It was past five. "So, are you going to tell me what is going on?" Draco drawled. He raised a hand to stop Harry's following blabbering. "You're a mess. Harry. You look like a desperate husband waiting for his wife to give birth." That made Harry blush furiously. Then Draco turned to Ron. "And you, haven't spoke in fifteen minutes. Which means you've either lost your ability to talk somehow or you're trying to prevent yourself from giving information away." He entwined his fingers and watched the other blushing boys with expecting eyes.

"Oh, there. Hermione's coming." Ron said happily, pointing to the figure nearing them from afar, with a book pressed to her chest. Harry couldn't stop grinning now. He wanted to see the look on Draco's face when he would hear that he's not dying. _Maybe he gets happy enough to hug me, us, all of us._ But his grin faltered as he could see her face. She didn't look happy and proud. She was swaying on her feet and seemed sad. Harry's stomach dropped as she came closer. She had been crying.

"Hermione! Are you okay? Have you been hurt?" Ron rushed to her immediately. Draco stood and walked towards her. But Harry stepped back from his friend. She was a mess. Her eyes were red and puffy. Her lips were trembling and her knuckles had gone white from gripping the book so hard.

"Hermione?" Draco called her name with worry when she kept her eyes on him. "I- I…" her voice trembled as well as her lips. "I had found something… It would work… But… An hour ago… It won't… A book… I…" Tears fell from her eyes and Ron pulled her towards his chest as a sob escaped her. Her next words broke Harry's heart in more ways he knew possible.

"I can't stop it. I can't save you."

Draco watched as his new friend turned to her boyfriend and cried heartbrokenly with defeat. After a few seconds he simply smiled at her kindly. "I know." Which got her attention. She turned to him confused. "It's okay." His smile deepened as he shrugged.

"Wh-wha?" Draco had gained the Trio's attention now, but his gaze remained on the tearful girl. "Well, believe it or not. I'm still a Slytherin, which means, I don't surrender unless I know there's no way to win. I have done all the research on it since it started. I knew there was no possible way to stop the curse." He said easily. Hermione scowled in confusion, though tears were still in her eyes. "Then why… why me?"

Ron, who had kept silent all the time, lifted his head from his girlfriend to the blond. His eyes widened slightly as he realized the reason behind Draco's actions before softening. He knew.

" _You_ in particular, because you are befitting and qualified enough to have that amount of knowledge and spread it among all the wizarding world at the right time." Draco replied to her question with praise. "However, I wasn't planning to do it. But when the know-it-all Granger came to me, determined to accept a challenge, when she had been this fragile, quiet nobody recently, I thought why not? Why not revive the bold and challenging Granger I once knew from inside this subtle Hermione? So I took a risk."

He was right. Not once had Hermione raised a hand to volunteer at anything in classes since the start of the school year. Not once had she defied anyone. But now, she was always busy studying. She would answer every question asked from her with her dictating old tone. She, as Draco mentioned, held determination and dare. She was back.

Hermione's eyes welled up again as she understood him. But Draco wasn't quite finished yet.

"And all of you," this time he gestured to all three of them. "Well, I simply wanted to enjoy having a few friends in my remaining time." He shrugged again, less sure of himself this time. "I guess I'm just that selfish." He said honestly, his muscles tensing with every word he said, as if waiting for someone to start shouting at him for lying and manipulating them. His stiff posture relaxed a bit as he received a reassuring smile from Ron and a teary one from Hermione. He then turned his gaze to Harry a bit nervously, hoping for his acceptance as well.

Harry.

He had backed away little by little as others had talked. He hadn't made a sound. Sounds had become further and further from him and harder to listen to as his blood pumping in his ears became louder and louder. His vision was blurry now. Why? Where were his glasses? Hadn't he put them on this morning? This morning when… what had happened this morning?

He blinked rapidly, only to find Draco turning towards him, looking at him, expecting him to say something.

Draco.

 _I'm dying._

Draco, who had become paler than yesterday. Thinner. Weaker. Draco, who was dying.

No, no he wasn't. Hermione was going to fix him. Hermione.

 _I can't stop it. I can't save you._

No, she wasn't going to. Draco was going to die. Like everyone else. He had found a way to Harry's heart and now he was going to die. It was all Malfoy's fault. He had found a new way to hurt him, a new prank. _His last prank._

This was ridiculous, everyone smiling silly at each other and awaiting someone's death. Harry wouldn't smile silly. He would never smile silly ever again. _He could never smile again._

His head started spinning. _Too much_. Too much of everything. He shook his head mentally, or maybe not. _I just want to run away from this._

So he did.

He ran away. Ignoring the 'Harry' s calling after him.

He didn't return to his dorms that night.

...

He skipped all of his classes the next day. Then went to the Library. The first to see him was Draco. He stood up so fast his chair fell backwards. Ron and Hermione stood as well. Ron held Hermione's hand to stop her from rushing towards him. She asked him if he was okay. Ron said they were worried sick and wee going to call for the Head Mistress' help in an hour. Harry didn't reply. He didn't listen to them at all. He silently stared at Draco. And he stared back.

His eyes were filled with worry, sadness, and more worry. Dark bags under his eyes suggested he had had as much sleep as Harry had last night. His hair was in the messiest state Harry had ever seen. His cheekbones were standing out even more, making him look underfed. He was a mess. Harry was sure he himself was the same.

Harry didn't say a word. He stepped closer, grabbed his wrist, and dragged him outside. Again, ignoring his two friends. He walked fast and his grip didn't loosen on the boney wrist. Draco didn't say a word. He followed him with all strength he had. Harry slowed down on instinct when he heard short breaths, but didn't look at Draco for a second to make sure he's okay until they reached the forest.

That's when he stopped and turned to his new friend. Friend. His friend. His dying friend.

"How do you do it?" Harry was shocked to hear his own raspy voice being so cold. Draco, who was still gaining his breath with his hands on his knees, looked at him with a puzzled look. "Huh?" he breathed out. "How do you do it? Do it right now." Harry said with irritation. "Bring him back. Now." he clarified.

Draco's eyes widened in shock. He stood straight and looked at him like he has lost his mind. "What?" A little part of Harry, the part which remained snarky no matter what, whispered ' _Who's the idiot now?_ ' in Harry's ear. Harry blinked it away. And started reasoning with Draco.

"Do it. Bring him back. You'll live." He said like it was enough. _It is._ Not for Draco, it wasn't. "And what? Kill hundreds of lives for mine?" he asked harshly. Harry shook his head furiously. "No. No I'll kill him the second he returns. And it will be over. And you'll live." He repeated again in a madly manner.

Draco shook his head sadly. "No, Harry. That's not how it works." Harry frowned. This was a perfect plan. "I won't know where he returns. It could be anywhere." Harry waved his hand mindlessly. "It won't matter. I'll find him and kill him. That's alright. Just tell me what you need to perform the spell. How is it done? You probably can do it here. Over this stone. Or maybe that tree over there?" Draco grabbed Harry's shoulders.

"No, Harry." He stated firmly raising his voice to get Harry's attention. "No." Harry stopped his thoughtless talking, looking at him with a torn expression. Tears welled up in his eyes. "It's alright, Harry." He reassured him and stepped closer to him. His arms found Harry's shoulders. Was he going to hug him? Harry didn't want anything but to surrender to the offered hug. To hug him tighter and breathe. Breathe in all of him so no curse could ever reach him. "The hard part is over anyway." He whispered so silently Harry was sure he wasn't supposed to hear it.

When had he become so selfless and heroic? Oh, how Harry wished Draco was the selfish Malfoy he once knew. He stepped back. "No, No it's not." He said. "I can't… You can't…" he couldn't voice his thoughts. He stopped for a moment and closed his eyes. Gathering his thoughts, he opened them again, and looked at Draco with a steely look. "You won't do it?" Draco replied as sternly as him. leaving no room for discussion. "No."

He wouldn't do it. He would die. Harry couldn't change it. _But I don't have to witness it. I don't have to watch it happen._

"I won't do _this_ either." He said coldly, gesturing between them. His voice was so emotionless. He _was_ so emotionless. He called it his surviving mode. Draco's eyelids jumped at his words. His jaw clenched as he swallowed hard, and nodded stiffly at his statement.

"As you wish."

* * *

 **I hope you enjoyed it! Tell me, maybe?**


	6. Chapter 5

**Hi!**

 **So before anything, I'm so very sorry for the delay! There are some stuff going on here that leave me tired at the end of the day. (Which is not a good excuse for updating late so sorry again!)**

 **But tbh, it was a pretty hard chapter to write down too. I've tried to show all the angst and stuff that's going on, which has been so hard!**

 **Anyways, here you are.**

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

 _"I can't lose you."_

 _"You can't save me by keeping me alive either."_

* * *

Harry stopped going to the library completely, even after his friends told him Draco had chosen another place to study. 'To give you space' that followed after made him angrier than is should've. He didn't need him to be selfless and give him space. He needed him to be the selfish person he once was. So he could save him, or at least hate him easier.

His friends hadn't stopped spending time with the blond. Harry had seen Hermione receive more and more packages sent to her from home, filled with muggle magazines, books, and other stuff. He would see Ron stuffing a chessboard in his bag some days before leaving for classes. However, the spent time had decreased noticeably as they hadn't decided to abandon their best friend. Not that Harry minded.

Harry had become distant again. The few times he had ran into Draco, Malfoy, he had simply looked away and walked away. His cold and not caring façade was strongly in place. His survival mode perfectly working. Hermione and Ron had asked him why he was doing this. His reply was cold and bitter enough to make Ron wince and Hermione sigh in sadness.

 _"I don't feel the need to spend time with someone who is already dead."_

 _._

Except, he did.

His survival mode wasn't working as it was supposed to. Even if he never glanced back at the figure chopping and crushing beans behind him at potions. Even if his eyes didn't linger on the immaculate blond hair when he entered the Great Hall. Even if he didn't turn to the sound of every cough he heard.

He wasn't surviving. He was killing himself before Draco could die. And he was succeeding.

He was alone again. At Hogsmeade, at meals, at nights when he would wake from his returned nightmares. He was so alone. So busy surviving to think about anything else. _Survive_. That was the only thing that kept him from breaking down. Survive.

He would get overwhelmed by people, needing someone who enjoys silence. _Survive._

Ron would nag to him for his lack of talent in chess. He would blurt out how good 'Draco' is. _Survive._

He didn't understand anything of the new lessons. He re-reads his potions textbook. Boomslang skin in polyjuice potion. _Survive._

Hermione would walk in the common room, pale and shaking. Blood on her robes. _Survive._

 _..._

He ran into Dra- Malfoy after potions. His grey eyes twinkled for a second, less than a second, before stepping out of his way with a dropped head and a silent 'Sorry'. Harry's eyes didn't follow his mind's orders. He watched him, for a second longer than needed. _Survive_. He looked away and stared at the invisible finish line set up at the end of the corridor. He continued walking.

Malfoy's eyes had dark bags under them. He didn't have them before they stopped talking. _Survive._ He walked down the corridor.

His cheeks looked so hollow, wasn't he eating? Was it for the curse? Would it prevent you from eating? _Survive._ He climbed the stairs to the common room.

Harry's body was burning. Every inch that was touched by Malfoy's body when they crashed together stinged. When did he become so thin? _Survive._ He whispered the password.

Malfoy's… Malfoy…He…Him… _Survive._ He walked in the common room.

Harry could survive Malfoy. He went upstairs. He opened the door to his dorms. Empty.

But those eyes. They weren't Malfoy's. They were Draco's. Draco's eyes were so grey. They had shone for a second. Less than a second. When they saw Harry. For Harry. In that second, less than a second, his eyes were so silver. _Survive._

Silver, like when _Draco_ would look at him teasingly. _Survive._ Silver, like when _Draco_ would mutter a remark under his breath when a professor said something not according to his taste. _Survive._ Harry closed the door behind him. Draco's eyes shone silver. Silver, like when he wasn't Malfoy. Like when he was Draco. _Survive._

Harry collapsed down to his knees. He broke into silent sobs. Salty tears finding their way easily down his cheeks. Tears older than Draco. Tears from before Draco. Tears for Draco.

 _Draco._

 _._

 _Harry couldn't survive Draco._

 _Harry couldn't survive without Draco._

...

Now that Harry had started knowing him, learnt about him, and spent his favorite hours in the past months with him, it wasn't so hard finding him. He didn't even look at his map. His feet simply dragged him outside in the cold air. It had stopped raining not an hour ago.

The fresh and sweet smell of wet soil and grass tickled Harry's nose. He felt as if the air had a personality. If Harry closed his eyes and stretched his hand in front of him he could catch the calming breeze. The same went with Draco's scent. Harry never could get enough of it. _Can pensives remake scents as well?_ He wished they could.

Months ago Harry would've laughed at the mention of comparing Draco Malfoy with the very air. But now it seemed entirely normal and rational. Whenever Harry was around Draco, his nerves would calm, exactly like now with the cool surrounding him. This weather and Draco were the only ones with the ability of slowing Harry's heartbeat enough to make him want to lie down and sleep peacefully. On the still wet grass, facing the cloudy sky above him. _Or on his knees, facing his cloudy eyes._

It was the sight of him, with his hair gracefully messed up a bit and his hand grasping a strand of blond gold, twisting it unconsciously, drowning in the letters of a muggle novel resting in his other hand, that reminded Harry just how much he missed him. How hard it had been to be ignorant and distant. He thought of hugging him, of letting his knowledge of his hair's softness being from experience, of burying his head in the crook of his pale neck, of reminding himself that no memory pensive could retrieve this scent, of picking him up and leaving Hogwarts and Voldemort and this curse behind, and just leave. _And start living._

But he did none. He stood in the middle of the empty Quidditch pitch and watched him as he read his borrowed book, sitting on the front row of benches of the audience while dangling his feet slightly. He stood and watched as he turned pages, as his expression changed with the occurrences of the fictional characters whom Harry didn't know. He could stay there for hours and days, watching him. _Forever, watching him._

Forever came for Harry in minutes, or hours, he didn't care. Draco felt someone's gaze on him and lifted his head only for his eyes to meet Harry's. He was surprised to find him there for a second, after that one second his surprise was directed to the eyes which were staring at him, _him_. Not looking away, not ignoring him, but looking at him. The barely of age boys held each other's gaze for more seconds for the blond one to break it, looking down again with a sigh.

Harry didn't move but he felt the world turn in a second. Gravity doubled and split in pieces. Working tirelessly to drag him down and back and forth and to his sides. He could hear a glass shatter in his ears and something pour in his head. Like the sand of a broken hourglass. _It's late. I'm late._

Fortunately, for Harry's mental state, Draco's gaze moved up from the book to Harry's feet. He closed the book and put it next to him on his bag so it wouldn't get wet or dirty, two pairs of eyes following the movements. Slowly and hesitantly, enough to make Harry lose half of his already scarred mental health, grey eyes found his again. A faint, and as pale as his lips, smile brightened Harry's world and vanished his broken hourglass. So did his next-barely-above-a-whisper-word.

"Hey!"

Harry felt too mesmerized to reply, he watched as the blond silently made a decision and bowed his head enough to get past the protection railing of the seat and watched down at the grass below his feet. It took him a few seconds to do it, but he did, he jumped off the wooden benches to land in the pitch. _To land in front of Harry_.

He took long but slow steps to reach Harry, only to stand in front of him, two feet away. His eyes on his, making Harry once again think of their color. The mixture of blue and silver reminded Harry of his patronus, his beloved stag, which he had always so proudly thought of his father when conjuring it. Now he would never cast a patronus without remembering the brilliant color of a certain school nemesis. That color, those eyes, when happy or kind, or their normal mischievous self, gave Harry the sense of safety and protection his stag couldn't. _Can someone's patronus be simply a pair of eyes? With an eyebrow lifted and the pupils shining from an unreachable mischief?_

Harry could no longer look him in the eyes, and watch nothing but contained emotions masked by wariness. His gaze dropped as he heard his controlled, but still gentle, voice. Sliding from his feet to his own. His old trainers, slightly parted as he stood, trying to keep him from swaying. "I assume you want to talk?"

"I wanted to say- to ask," _Focus._ Harry's eyes stick to his untied shoelace, wet and muddy. The words, sort out the words. What was the sentence about? "To beg." He silently choked out. Right. Now he remembered. _There was no sentence._ Harry could feel the curse, this time on him. what else could eat up all the oxygen around him if not a dark curse trying to kill him? _To beg._ Here he was, barely standing, begging. He made a terrible mistake. Unforgivable.

He looked up for a second, and saw his eyes, _his eyes_ , not wary anymore, not holding back any more emotions. His eyes were soft, _can eyes be soft too?_ And knowing. He knew. _Are his eyes as soft as his hair looks?_ The curse grabbed his throat and squeezed, and god this curse was a strong one. _Can I touch them? His eyes and his hair?_

Harry dropped his head immediately, his second grave mistake, because gravity, which had intensified recently, drew tears from the back of his eyes, enough to make his world blurry. "I beg you, Draco." Harry would definitely need more than a few seconds to find a way to blame the wavering of his voice on the curse, gravity, nature, or anything really, but his cracked heart.

His shoulders fell, along with the two shiny drops of tear as he closed his eyes. "Please, Draco." He could swear his own lungs were trembling was he in a more rational situation. "I, you're, please." His whole body was trembling now, no denying that. "I can't lose you too, please." Harry could no longer take it. His knees bent and he, so very non-gracefully, knelt before the boy who held no wand to cast an imperius stronger than Voldemort's. _At least I found the sentence I needed._ "I can't lose you."

From behind his closed eyelids, he felt, more than saw or heard, Draco getting to his knees in front of him, on the wet, muddy grass. A cold, yet comforting hand found his, placed on his knee. And then another one, touched his cheek. The latter more slowly, more gently, making his head involuntary lean into it. Fingers lifted his head up, a thumb caressed his cheek, below his eye, begging him to open his eyes.

So he did. And watched the broken look of the person who meant more to him than almost anyone he had ever knew. His eyes glassier than before, than ever. His chapped lips moved and the most sympathetic voice reached Harry's ears, and the raspiest.

"You can't save me by keeping me alive either."

His words gave Harry's mourning a pause. His eyes focused on Draco's pale face, his lips, as he took a deep breath and spoke again. "I spent years, years Harry, watching him. watching them. And I kept silent, because I was too weak, too afraid. When he- No, let me Harry." He stopped Harry's protests before a voice could leave Harry's opened mouth. "Let me speak." Harry closed his mouth again and listened to him. Really listened.

"When he returns, he will kill again, death eaters will return to him, people will lose faith. Honestly, what kind of mortal man comes back from death twice? And I can't harry. I can't survive it again. I can't survive seventh year once again, where muggleborns are tortured everyday. I can't survive watching people I called family torture and rape and kill muggles and muggleborns and half-bloods and everyone." His trembling words were shaking Harry more than they should. A part of him that exclusively cared for Draco got alarmed of his shortening breaths. He grasped Draco's hand, the one still lying on his knee. He didn't know what to do, his grip tightened and loosened, trying to pump some oxygen into his blood. He caressed his fingertips with his thumb. He had no idea what to do. So he listened again.

"I can't survive another Hermione Granger screaming under my family's spells and curses. I can't survive another Luna Lovegood being locked up in our dungeons. I can't survive it Harry, I can't survive him." His breathing was totally ragged and uneven now. His entire body was shaking. From the rough coughs and weakness and all the trauma he had to face as a child.

Harry didn't have time to realize his own tears had dried at the sight of Draco's wet and shiny eyelashes. Oh, how much he has been broken and Harry had never realized. He reached forward to stop him from speaking any further, but Draco pushed him back weakly. Enough to stop Harry.

"Why do you think he chose me? Because he knew I'm weak, he knew I can't help but save my own skin. But I can't do it anymore." Harry couldn't handle it anymore. With a shaking hand he reached for Draco's shoulder.

"Not again. Not this time." Draco rasped out as he got dragged into Harry's chest between his coughs. Harry rubbed a hand down to Draco's spine and back up. Trying to help him regain his breathing. Draco rested his forehead on Harry's shoulder and listened to his soothing murmurs. Between his 'It's alright's and 'It's okay's, Draco murmured three final words. Barely above a whisper. But Harry heard it.

"Not this time."

.

As the sun set and the sky changed color above their heads, Harry held Draco in his arms. Thinking of one thing.

Draco Malfoy and the fresh air around him were more alike than Harry thought. He could keep none of them to himself.

* * *

 **Btw, I kinda cried typing it. Does that make me a sap, or was it sad enough?**


	7. Chapter 6

**Hey everyone! I'm so sorry for being dead for the past I don't know how long!**

 **We kinda moved across the world, which is an excuse! Truth is I felt this fic not really good and started questioning myself and... yeah, you don't wanna know!**

 **Anyways! I'm back and I promise to _try_ to write faster:)**

 **Btw, this is the last chapter kind of...**

 **Ok, so I couldn't choose between the two epilogues I had in mind. So I'll type them both I guess?**

 **The second epilogue will be a follow up to the first one so... you can decide how you want it to end.**

 **You can just read this chapter instead of my blabbering!**

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

 _"Don't, Potter. Just don't."_

* * *

"No." Draco murmured, his terrified voice barely above a whisper and stronger than a whine. He took a moment to pause, then shook his head. "No. Not happening."

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh as she threw her head backwards. "Come on, Draco. Even Ron has changed into his new ones." She pointed at Ron, who was standing a few feet away from them, not paying much attention to the heated discussion. Instead he kept on looking around and the passengers with awe, touching the fabric of his muggle clothes unconsciously.

Draco watched the ginger with doubt. When no sign of him changing his mind was shown, Hermione started pushing him towards the fitting room in the middle of the muggle boutique they were in. Draco protested again. "They're not like me, Hermione. I never wear these sorts of clothes."

"So what? You're planning on coming with wizarding robes?" she said as she pushed a little harder. Not that she was making any progress. Despite his weakness and the curse, Draco was still stronger than Hermione. All those years of playing Quidditch had to pay off.

"Potter! Help me!" Draco called for his last hope. Pleading for Harry's help to rescue him of clothes.

Harry looked at Draco's desperate eyes, which refused to land on the pile of clothes in his hands. Harry couldn't help but long to see him in those clothes instead of his own formal designer robes.

Draco's eyes finally met his. Harry silently mouthed something and suppressed a shiver as he watched shining silver eyes linger on his lips a moment too far. When surprised eyes rose to meet his own staring ones, he raised an eyebrow and smirked.

Draco would have so proud from the smirk Harry had just pulled off, if he wasn't so busy setting his jaw, hardening his eyes in stubbornness, and turning away. Taking long strides towards the fitting room.

Hermione was left standing in the middle of the place, although uncharacteristically, looking baffled, gaping at the now closed door of the small room.

Ron, now more used to his new boots and jeans, turned to Harry, turned to Harry, more than a little curious. "How'd you do it, mate? 'Mione has been wrestling with him for the past, like 20 minutes." It was quite true. Harry smirked again, more in triumph and less challenging. "Took a single word."

"Which was?" Hermione asked as she got finally over the incident. Now standing between the two, curiosity shining in her eyes. Harry smiled and easily shrugged away the question as he continued to his search through the racks of different clothes from different styles and colors. His mind on the one-word question that had changed the blond's mind.

 _Scared?_

After a few minutes of searching, Harry found a few stuff he'd like to buy to improve his wardrobe. Draco would have a heart attack if he ever got to see it. Thinking of the horrified look on his face, Harry thought of buying a few more T-shirts. He was moving to another section when he heard Ron's low whistle.

"Wow, man!"

Which was followed by Hermione's proud voice. "I told you these will look good on you!"

Harry's eyes travelled to the fitting room's door, now wide open. Seeing Draco standing outside it made the room of no importance. Harry stood where he was, his mouth inching open by the sight that greeted him.

Draco looked good.

Like, really, really good. Knowing that Draco had long and rather lean legs was nothing compared to seeing them in those dark skinny jeans. The patch of pale skin that was visible from beneath the tears of its knees was different from the skin harry could always see on his hand and face. The black converses and that grey denim jacket, hugging his lean body. It was more that Harry could handle. His breath almost came short. The sight was, _he was_ , overwhelming. So was the sound of his own heartbeat, and his blood rushing through his head… and well, other places Harry would prefer not to think about.

But the thing that took Harry's breath away, was Draco's final touch, just to make sure that the day in which Harry wouldn't recall this image before his eyes, would probably be his first day in grave.

Draco's always tidy and imbecile, and sometimes a little less tidy, platinum blond hair was now messed up in a stylish way that made him look playful _and_ elegant. How he managed to do that was, and forever would be, beyond Harry. Strands of precious platinum falling into his eyes highlighted his smug and mischievous smirk.

As Harry stood by the different sorts of T-shirts, gaping at the view, he read the silent words, directed to him, from Draco's pink and proud lips.

 _You wish._

...

The loud thrumming music could be heard from behind the closed doors as they walked forward. Ron was looking around with wide eyes. Draco was eying the strangers walking past them to enter the Disco, keeping his amazement more under control than the redhead.

As the door opened, the sounds intensified, and all Harry could see was floating lights and people. Lots of people, dancing, drinking, talking, laughing.

Hermione, her hair now straightened and falling down he shoulders, took her boyfriend's hand and after flashing the other two boys a smile, walked inside. Harry couldn't help but imagining the same with the blond who was currently standing beside him, intrigued by the entire place and its people.

As his two best friends got inside, Harry once again glanced inside. He saw a couple making out beside the bar, the boy was resting a hand on the girl's waist possessively. The kiss was heated as it appeared from across the room. As the door closed, it left the kissing couple on one side, leaving Harry with longing thoughts of how it would feel to place his hand on Draco's waist, on the other side.

Pushing the thoughts to the very back of his head, he turned to Draco with a hand at his back. "Shall we?" he asked in a fancy tone, gesturing to the door and what awaited them behind it. Draco gave him an amused grin. "We shall." He joked in the same fancy tone Harry had used. Though, he wore the luxury and elegance better.

He acted funny. Funny like happy, cheerful and excited, but still uncertain from being in an unknown territory. Harry's stomach dropped a few inches nonetheless. He reached for the doorknob and opened the door, waiting for Draco to get inside. He did, looking at everywhere slightly awed. Harry followed him inside, his eyes lingering on the blond's thighs and arse, fitted perfectly in the tight jeans.

They sat behind a stool and ordered a drink. After a few minutes, to Harry's disdain, they parted to have their own time. _That's the point, isn't it? Always parting._

Harry had had a few more drinks and was now standing in the middle of the dance floor. He ha done perfectly well in keeping his own surprise to himself. It was Harry's first time at a disco, too, after all. However, he did have a few ideas about how it would look like, more than Ron and Draco definitely.

To Harry and Ron's surprise, it wasn't Hermione's first clubbing experience. She had used a fake ID to get inside a few times. 'Duh!' was her reaction to their unbelieving, and slightly horrified, faces. It was a surprise after all, seeing Hermione as a rule breaker.

But then, as Harry recalled, Hermione had in fact broken many rules back at school too. One would consider Ron and Harry bad influence if they forgot how goo she was at breaking the rules actually, and not getting into trouble. Thinking of it now, Harry and Ron should've paid more attention to her acts and asked her for some advice. Maybe then, they wouldn't have lost all those house points and had served fewer detentions.

Being in such a crowded place, Harry felt both excited and anxious. Excited because… well, it was a fun and cool place to be, definitely. It felt good to experience something new, something… different.

But spending almost an entire year sleeping with an open eye and being vigilant of every small sound in fear of attackers and any sort of danger had left Harry double checking and questioning everything and wary of his own shadows. The first thing he would look for in anyone was their potential threats and the dangers they could cause them. He was growing sick of unconsciously following his fourth year's death eater professor's command. _Constant vigilance._

Standing in the middle of a muggle dancefloor was no different. His instincts kicked in. the Prophet and many of his more judging fans called it his 'Hero Complex'. It wasn't a complex, or anything about heroism in Harry's opinion. It was the result of spending years being followed by deathly dangers and constantly getting betrayed by friends and others. _I just to make sure my friends are safe. And others._

He frowned at his failure of a reasoning and searched for his friends. Didn't take long to find his best mate's red hair. It would be hard not to notice it with Ron's way higher than average height.

His two best friends were dancing together with the music. One better than the other, obviously. Ron was still trying to find a pattern between the swinging and movements of all the dancing people around him. which was hard, considering how his eyes kept darting back to his girlfriend's body. She was moving effortlessly to the rhythm.

Content with what he saw, a faint smile appeared on Harry's lips. it felt good to see people you love be happy and safe. _It's probably time to exclude safety from my hopes for my friends._ Harry sighed to himself. It was hard, persuading his mind that there was no more war to deny them the safety they needed.

His eyes started skimming the crowd of strangers again to find his… his friend. His other friend, Different friend. Harry stood on his toes to gain a better look as he shoved the phrase _'maybe more than a friend'_ to the very back of his mind.

Ah, there he was, standing in the crowd. His hair shone more than some of the faint blinking lights above their heads. And, oh, he was looking at Harry too. The small smile on Harry's eyes stretched into a wide grin. Which wasn't returned immediately.

It was enough to make Harry's body go rigid in concern and worry. He eyed around, looking for possible dangers. None. Someone bumped into Draco and Harry literally _saw_ the breath leaving his lungs from the impact. Harry started moving towards Draco through the dancing crowd, his eyes not leaving the blond. By the time the reached Draco he knew the problem.

He grabbed his hand protectively, and maybe a bit possessively, and watched as Draco looked at him again. His posture was calm. His head was held up and his back was straightened. Inhaling and exhaling deeply and slowly. As if trying to keep himself calm. _As if trying to keep his breathing calm._

His breath was coming short.

He nodded towards the exit and started moving at its direction, not letting go of the boney and pale hand he had spent weeks fantasizing about holding. He would spend hours later at the thought of Draco not objecting to the hand holding.

The moment they reached outside in the cold fresh air, Draco's breathing improved and Harry let out a breath of relief he'd been holding for too long.

"I'm sorry." Draco's apologizing words reached Harry's ears more easily now that they were away from the crowded madness. His breath smelled of alcohol. That's when Harry realized he, too, had had a few drinks of his own. Who knew stress could sober up a person that quickly?

"The air down there was so stale and there were so many odors and chemicals. It wasn't that bad, just-" Harry didn't let him continue to reason for his breath coming short and apologizing for it. "It's alright." He said softly. "We can go somewhere else." He didn't realize he had assumed that they were going to spend time together after all, until he said the words.

Before Harry had the chance to get nervous or babble silly, Draco gifted him with a grateful smile. And that was all it took, actually. That was the thing about Draco's smiles. They could wipe away any thought of Harry's mind. "Well, this is muggle territory, you decide where we go."

Harry looked around, uncertain where he should suggest. He checked the map on his cellphone. He had bought it last summer. Mainly in an attempt to distract himself from the war he was trying to leave behind and catching up with the muggle life. Finally, he set his mind on a place, not far from where they were. They started walking.

Harry texted Hermione so she wouldn't get worried. "Draco and I are going somewhere nearby." After a few seconds he added another text. "Don't wait for us."

'Us'. Harry liked how it sounded it his head. Was he alone, he wouldn't mind tasting the single syllabus word on his mouth.

They walked in silence. Despite the crowd around them and the cars rushing in the street, it ridiculously felt calm. Every few seconds, Harry would glance back at Draco, who was moving alongside him. his hands in his pockets, looking around, interest sparking in his eyes.

Being there, among all those strangers, knowing there's someone else, not anyone, Draco, beside him, walking for one destination, it made Harry realize how easily he could grow fond of that single word. 'Us'.

...

There they were. Sitting on plastic chairs, resting their elbows on a plastic table, watching the whole city, or at least enough apartments and roads and lights to consider it a city. It was in no way fancy. But none of them were complaining.

Harry rushed to a food stand and within minutes he was back with two burgers, fries and cokes. The curious look on Draco's face was his unforgettable reward. He couldn't even try to stop grinning at him.

"What is this?" Draco asked, slowly poking his burger with a plastic fork. Holding back a burst of laughter, Harry said "That, my friend, is a cheese burger. You eat it. And NO, no, Draco! Put that bloody fork down!" he grabbed his own burger and took a large bite from it, hiding his smile behind it and throwing up his eyebrows to encourage his _friend_ to do the same.

After a few seconds of doubt, Draco decided to throw away all the table manners he'd been thought probably since he was able to sit at a table. He picked up the burger and took a polite bite. Putting it down immediately to grab a tissue and wipe away what shouldn't be, and wasn't, on his lips. _Maybe not all his manners._ He chewed it slowly, examining the taste and texture of the food with more effort and concentration than what Harry would put in for his studies, before approving of the muggle food and reaching for it again to take a more confident bite. They ate it silence.

After their make up, Harry decided to accept the situation and respect Draco's decision and try his best to enjoy the time he had left with the blond. Yes, at nights when he was alone there was a heavy weight on his heart and heavier tears in his eyes. Yes, he sometimes wanted to scream and hit and crash stuff. _Or curl up in a ball and cry._ Yes, he barely kept it together when Draco joked about his deathlike it was the most normal thing in his schedule. When he was like people who believed death to be another challenge and another stop. Yes, he was freaked out and sad and couldn't bring himself to think of a time without the boy who was in front of him. A time with him being nothing but shreds of nature.

But…

No, he didn't want to run away from Draco's death. Not when he had to run away from him too. No, he wasn't going to deny himself from his presence and his time left. No, he wasn't leaving. He would spend more silent hours with Draco when he felt fed up. Even if the thought of his left hours coming to an end burned his heart and eyes and throat. He would joke back, even if he had to swallow down a knot in his throat before he spoke. He would watch Draco live. He would be there with Draco as he lived.

He would live with Draco as much as he could before Draco died.

Harry looked up from his greasy hands to Draco. He was looking at the night. Past the night and the city and the lights. His silver eyes shining like the lights across them. Harry's hands ached to push a fallen strand of hair behind his ear. Every day that passed, Harry grew a bit closer to Draco, and every day that passed he wanted more that the day before.

At first, he would do anything to hide his feelings. Not that he was any good at it. Harry knew he wasn't good at it, because every time he would stop staring longingly at the blond, he would find his friends looking at him. Ron's silent expression changed from confused to accepting as the time passed. Hermione recognized his struggling, his inner fighting, and his longing. Harry knew when she dragged Ron along and away with different excuses and reasons to give the two some time alone.

At first, Harry was embarrassed and shy. He wanted to hide it. To keep it a secret. But these days, he wanted to say it to Draco, to everyone. He wanted to tell him. he almost hoped he would blurt it out suddenly and get over with it.

At first, Harry felt confused. He didn't know what was this attraction that he felt. He had tried comparing it with Ginny. But he couldn't. What he felt for Ginny once, it was hot and fiery and extreme. But what he felt with Draco was different. It was slow, and calm. With Ginny he could feel the room get hot and uncomfortable. With Draco, Harry could feel all his tense muscles relaxing. He couldn't explain himself to Ginny, because Harry wasn't good with words. And he didn't have to with Draco, because Draco could read his silence. What he once had for Ginny was way different with what he had with Draco. Maybe that was the point of all of it.

It was a thing 'for' Ginny and something else 'with' Draco.

And tonight, sitting across him on cheap plastic chairs, finding him more attractive than the city beneath his feet, Harry felt awfully at ease.

"Draco." He called for him, feeling a smile slowly form in his lips as Draco turned his attention to him. He didn't notice the fear in those grey eyes or the rigidity of his posture as he started speaking. "I… I think, no. I _know_ I lo-" not until he's cut off by Draco's sharp tone. Sharp enough to cut his words. The words he's been wanting to tell him all this time. This was supposed to be his moment. And Draco's sharp words cut his moment.

"Don't, Potter." Draco's tense jaw and tenser words started Harry out of his emotional mood. "Just don't."

Harry froze in his seat. _He already knows._ He felt sadness and despair seep through his veins. Not enough to keep the confusion away. "But… why?" Harry didn't care if his voice cracked a bit. But watched as Draco noticed, and cared. Draco closed his eyes, to mask his emotions, or to find the right words. Harry didn't know. But when he opened his eyes again, they weren't looking at him. Instead, they had landed on the table between them. When he spoke again, his voice was sure and certain.

"Because, you look like the exact type of idiot who falls in love only once, and is dense enough to spend his entire life alone and miserable, loving a bloody corpse." His voice was certain. No matter if it wavered a bit at the end.

Harry was a mix of emotions. None of them he could describe. He knew for sure that right then, in the whole universe, there was only one person who could understand his feelings without him speaking. And he was already sitting across him. Draco could read his silence the best. So Harry allowed him to.

Silence fell between them. Harry let it stay there for more minutes as he gathered his thoughts and the sentences formed in his head. He swallowed the lump in his throat alongside all the pleadings that were rushing to his mind.

"That sounds quite true." Harry said finally, not looking at the grey and silver eyes that landed on him. That, they had in common. Alongside Quidditch and cheese burgers and silence, they had this, too, in common. They couldn't stand looking at the other when they knew their emotions were barely held back. But this was important, he had to know what Draco had to say. Something he had learnt over these months, Draco had more words in his silence and eyes. He couldn't look away from this one.

"But, don't you think… maybe… it could be a less miserable lonely life, if I didn't have to mourn everyday over the fact that I never had a single chance to actually love the said corpse, when he still wasn't one?" As hard it was to keep a straight face and a steady voice, Harry's expression remained still. Good thing he was holding back his tears, so he could see the waver in Draco's eyes.

Draco was the first to break the stare. He turned again, hugging his torso tightly from the cold weather or maybe the same cold hand Harry was feeling inside his chest, scratching his insides till there was nothing but shreds.

Harry turned to the lights in the dark too. His eyes fixed on one. A faint, barely recognizable light from an apartment window, glowing a bit. Harry blinked slowly, imagining a light fading away from all those rooms and apartments. Knowing that no one would notice, or care. Knowing that no one would know someone's room and sight had turned dark. He watched the faint light, his faint light, among the others. Somehow it wasn't hard to find it among all the glowing lights around it. It wasn't hard to focus on it and not jump to another light.

The next time he blinked, the light was no longer there. He didn't need to look for it. He just knew that there was now one less faint light in a sea of them. And no one would notice. It was turned off. Someone had switched it off. Harry stared at an empty dark space where once a faint glowing light had shone for a long time.

No one broke the silence again.

* * *

 **Hope you liked it! Please tell me what you thought?**

 **And to be honest, I don't know how long it will take me to write the epilogues, I want them to be good and I still haven't learnt to turn my writer mode on and off.**

 **Thanks for reading! (And thanks a lot for all the reviews!)**


	8. Epilogue

**Hey guys!**

 **Sorry for the massive delay! I really didn't want to mess it up and apparently moving to a new country doesn't help one's writing skills...**

 **Anyways, Here is the epilogue. I finally decided what I wanted to do to this story and how it really should end.**

 **So, no follow up epilogue. It just doesn't feel right...**

* * *

 **Epilogue**

 _"This is kinda nice, you know."_

* * *

"So," Draco said softly as he pulled at the grass stems gently. Harry watched him as the sun shone upon his golden hair and pale and high cheekbones. The curse had taken his parents down rather quickly, but with Draco, its last victim? It sure was taking its time.

Not that Draco was complaining, really. He barely commented on it. And for someone who could see what was happening, someone who cared, someone like Harry… well, it wasn't easy. Not knowing how to even feel deep down to himself. To feel slightly better for the more time they were granted so he could have Draco a little bit longer, or to feel even worse. For seeing the unknown hero in hiding take all that pain and fade away slowly, every day a bit more, in front of his eyes. Harry was suspecting that in the more recent weeks, it wasn't Draco's flesh that was melting away, but his bones.

The curse really was taking its time. Harry could feel his trousers getting damp from sitting on the grass, still wet from the mid-spring rains. But he couldn't care any less. How could he? When his uptight Slytherin was sitting right beside him, leaning more on one hand than the other, and looking down at the grass between his finger tips so mesmerized. With his hair untidily pushed behind his ear, his tie hanging loosely around his neck and the top of his shirt unbuttoned.

"So." Draco repeated, this time looking up to Harry's eyes, confirming that he was, in fact, talking to him. "I've been wondering. What are you actually going to do? After school, after…" _Don't say it. Don't say-_ "After all these stuff." He didn't say it. He looked at Harry patiently. Patient, like he had all the time in the world.

Harry took a moment to actually think about it. He hadn't really given it much thought since Draco. "Well, I'm not sure anymore. I mean before the war, wow it feels like a lifetime ago." _It was a lifetime ago, actually._ "for years I was set on becoming an auror. Then I thought, maybe something with less…" _blood, loss, death_ "violence. So I decided to give Quidditch a shot." _With Ginny._ "But…"

But Harry had changed in the past few months, too. Now that he had spent silent and peaceful hours of just doing _nothing_ with Draco… Now he couldn't imagine himself in crowds, around noises louder than the thousands of small splashes of raindrops, or the mute dumping of snowfall, or the wind slipping past the leaves… _or the gentle, calm whispers of a fading boy…_

Draco didn't say anything, he kept watching Harry as his eyes drifted back to memories and thoughts and resurfaced back to the present time. With eyes so calm as if nothing was ever going to happen. "Now, " Harry cleared throat. "Now I'm thinking of taking a few years off. Retiring and everything. I mean I have enough money to live quite good for at least 200 more years without needing to think about my bills… So, a tiny wooden house in a small muggle town sounds nice." _If I survive what comes before that, what comes after this._

Nope, he wasn't wasting such a good day, specially when there are very few left, moping. "What about you?" Harry asked. Knowing it sounded silly. Draco gave him a look. "I plan to die of old age, in a farm, actually." Harry let out a chuckle.

"Well, you could always turn into a ghost, you know?" _Then we could spend years on a bench, looking at the sunsets._ "Maybe take Bloody Baron's spot in school even." _Then I could teach here._ "Maybe move in with Myrtle?" Harry suggested. Not knowing how to fit himself in that scenario.

Draco gave out a breathless laugh. "Nah, I'd rather build a cottage from burning bones and rest peacefully in hell… or burn peacefully, I guess?"

It wasn't easy, but Harry had mastered the art, or self torture skill, of humoring the pain.

"A house of fire, in the middle of hell, among all the sinful cries of agony. Draco Malfoy, sitting inside, on rocking chair, looking outside the window. What a dramatic image!"

Smiling was a lot easier on Draco's lips these days.

...

A nice thing about Draco was, that no matter the situation, no matter the bad, unfortunate and sad events going on around him, being with him, being around him… it washed away everything away. Every pleasant or unpleasant thing surrounding Harry and his life would lose color and importance in comparison to what was going on at that exact moment.

It was like sitting in a dark room with him, where no sounds could come through the walls and nothing could creep from beneath the door. A door so dark that one couldn't tell how big it is, if it's as small as his cupboard, or big and spacious… it there was a room at all…

Given Harry's childhood, it should be more traumatizing than comforting. But it wasn't, because all Harry could see in that room was Draco. He was the only reality in that room, even if he closed his eyes he knew he still was there.

He made Harry oblivious to everything around him… like that exact moment… Harry had completely forgotten what had just happened maybe not an hour ago with his friends.

...

...

...

"Will you marry me?"

The question hung in the air without any response. Well, except the shock and confusion. Hermione's mouth was hung open as she tried to blink the shock away. The silence was deafening… but hilarious. Draco's eyebrows were almost touching his hairline, as he opened his mouth in an attempt to make a comment, a smart one probably, and closed it without a sound.

Thankfully after two minutes of four young adults sitting on couches in an awkward silence, Harry found his voice.

"What?" He asked and didn't miss the silent mouthed 'The. Fuck.' on Draco's lips.

Ron didn't take his eyes from Hermione, still waiting for an answer.

"D-Did… Did y… Did you just propose to me?"

Ron nodded with a smile.

"While sitting on a couch," Draco said, finally finding something to say. "In the middle of a discussion about whether muggle course books should be taught at or at least available in wizarding schools."

Harry could only mouth 'what' again.

Hermione still was too surprised to even feel disappointed for Ron's choice of time and way of proposal.

Ron's face turned red in matter of seconds. "Yes, well, it wasn't the best timing, but…"

"Yes, Ron. Not the best timing. Probably a few years early." Hermione was trying to sound calm and collected, at least she was trying.

Confusion replaced embarrassment quickly in Ron's voice. "Years? What? Why? Why should I want to marry you _years_ later?" Draco grabbed his head with both hands dramatically. "Salazar, I'm getting a headache from his lack of thinking equipment."

Hermione, not really listening to Draco, exploded at Ron's words. "Ron, WE'RE NOT EVEN TWENTY YET!" to which, Ron shrugged way too easily. As if it wasn't any deal at all, let alone a big one.

"Okay, So? I've loved you since fourth grade and I know that you are the one that I love now and will love two and five and ten and fifty years from now. so what difference does it make? You're the smartest person I know and I know as a fact that whatever your answer is today, it will be the same ten years later. Because you already have chosen to be with me and although I still don't know why that one happened, I know you've done your research on me and have studied me enough to choose to be beside me."

He talked so easily and fast about his love that everyone else in the room got silent again. After a few seconds Ron continued.

"You can slow this down if you want, Mione. You can prolong it all you want. For a year or two or ten. But in the end it's inevitable. In the end no one is stopping me from loving you and wanting to spend the rest of my life with you. In the end I will ask you to marry me… and I hope you say yes… You will say yes, right?"

Now Hermione had gotten too emotional too talk. Harry was so amazed by Ron's speech. Ron wasn't a smart or remarkable person. He always would get passed by unnoticed while he stood beside Hermione's genius and Harry's fame. But there were times that he shone brighter than anyone with only being a Gryffindor and speaking his heart so easily.

"Wow, Mate." Harry finally managed. Ron turned red immediately again after he remembered the other two guys in the room.

"I think we should leave, Potter." Draco whispered quietly to Harry. Harry nodded and with Draco, they left the two lovebirds some alone love time to discuss their love stuff.

Both boys puffed some air out as they got in the hallway. Draco's followed by a small cough. They stared at each other for a moment and laughed quietly as they failed to comment on their friends' love style.

"Out?" Draco suggested. "I think it stopped raining a little while ago."

...

...

...

Trauma. It was one way to describe almost all of his life… and death… and even most of what followed. And normally, he should be a mess. He should look at every corner and see a dead body. He should close his eyes and have empty, unblinking eyes of all the ones he loved stare back at him. He should look at anything green and see a very different shade of green light engulf him. He should mistake every loud burst of laughter with a person's dying, torturing, mourning, painful screams.

He should be burning himself out, or seeking help from a therapist…

But… somehow… he wasn't… not anymore.

Somehow his life didn't seem dull and colorless and meaningless as it should.

Somehow he looked at every corner and saw Draco… Draco leaning on the wall, Draco sitting down, Draco collecting his books… Draco…Draco…Draco…

Somehow Harry closed his eyes and he would find himself in that dark room again. Where everything is silent and calm and… just steady…

Somehow he saw green and would think of the forest, and grass, and a Slytherin scarf, hanging loosely around Draco's neck…

Somehow he heard bursts of laughter and, yes, he did flinch at first from the loud voice, but would end up thinking how different how every laughter, every chuckle sounded.

Somehow, Draco had taken all the trauma in Harry's head and had melted it away.

Harry turned to look at Draco again. He was looking at the sun slowly descending from their view. The red and orange lights reflecting on the lake. It was amazing, magical you could say. Not long ago Draco had once said, Harry recalled, 'It's amusing, how we are this secret community and world that know magic, what no one believes in, and aren't we proud of it. But in the end, the most mesmerizing and untouchable magic isn't stored away only for a special group. In the end of the day, nature is the biggest magic and it's for everyone.'

It was an amazing sight, the lake. And yet, Harry's gaze was glued to Draco's face. How the burning sun lit his face, his pale face coloring up with a blush granted by the sun itself. A strand of rich red and golden hair dangling too closely to his eyes, leaving Harry wondering, which did he want more. To let this perfect picture stay in front of his eyes with all of its imperfections. Or to reach out and push that strand away, and let his fingers linger on the 'naturally' blushed skin.

Feeling his gaze, silver eyes turned to him. Now shining like pure, heated gold. Harry's eyes spoke books of all that he was feeling.

Draco wasn't daft, or ignorant. His eyes softened and a small smile lit up his face. A safe, embracing smile, reassuring Harry the he- that they were okay. That he knew. That he cared. That maybe, he, too, felt this way.

Draco wasn't perfect. He never was. He never would be. Not for himself, not for Harry, and not for the world.

But he was the best thing to ever happen to Harry. In that year. In that time. In this scenario.

For one moment, Harry imagined leaning forward, closing this small gap and touching that safe smile, feeling… tasting the safety, the sweet calmness if offered.

He thought of running his lips, after his fingers, across his jaw, his high cheekbones…

He thought of resting his forehead against his, of letting their lips brush, of inhaling his scent.

He thought of breaking the unspoken vow he had set for himself and throwing away every red line he had ever drawn.

He thought of putting his knees on both sides of his hips in one move, barely touching them.

He thought of letting his hands lightly climb his chest, up to his neck, of burying his hands in his blond locks, of his of his thumbs caressing his cheeks.

And he thought of leaning down and finally locking those lips with his own. Of swallowing the tiny gasp that would- he knew it would- escape his lips.

He thought of touching this affection that's been growing in months. Of remembering and memorizing every second, every breath, every sound, every inch. Of feeling this safety, this calmness, this emotion that he couldn't describe, somewhere other than his heard and his head, of having it on his skin.

For one moment, Harry knew he could do it, and he knew Draco wouldn't stop him. He had seen it in his eyes.

For one moment, Harry understood how bad he needed this fragile, fading boy to stay with him. How bad he had fallen for him. How bad he loved him.

And for one moment, he didn't do anything.

He kept staring at those eyes. After that one moment of doing nothing Harry knew that this wasn't just about love. It was about connection, about maturing out of fairy tales and fantasies, about finally letting go of the childhood he never had but part of him subconsciously kept clinging on to it.

It wasn't about falling in love. It was about a hand clasped into his as he started to love. About steadily loving. Safely being in love.

Draco was still looking at him, with an emotion that Harry could read, because they could read each other. Because they had healed from the stinging scars of the war, the past, together.

Draco's eyes spoke to his again, talking of understanding. He looked back at the sky but moved closer to Harry. Their shoulders brushing lightly. Watching the sky, where once, the sun had shone. Waiting for the starts to appear.

"This is kinda nice, you know." Draco said slowly as he inhaled the fresh air. Harry smiled. He didn't need to approve in words. Draco had already heard his silence. This small amount of time that Harry had spent with Draco, it had taught him things. It was short, but it would remain for years.

Draco wouldn't die when he would cease to breathe, not for Harry. He would stay with Harry. Not just out of love. But in the way he would live. He would live because that's what he learnt from this fading boy. For the first time since Harry had known about Draco, he didn't feel sad that he was dying. He felt lucky that he had had a chance at this, no matter how short.

For the first time in a very, very long time, Harry felt like this truly and unconditionally.

He felt happy.

* * *

 **Sooo, that's it.**

 **Sorry, this was never supposed to have a happy ending. But sorry anyways if it wasn't what you wanted.**

 **But please tell me what you thought of it.**

 **Good? Bad? It truly sucked? OMG it was amazing? (Yeah, I know it wasn't!)**

 **I really would love to know how you felt.**

 **...**

 **Well, That really is it!**

 **Sorry again for all the delays, and thanks for bearing with me.**

 **I solemnly swear to never post an unfinished story ever again. (I'll try!)**

 **BYE!**


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